Memories Keep You Near
by Andi88
Summary: Snow White is in labor when she is transported to another land to escape the Curse. Now she must find her way in a strange new world and be a mother at the same time. Luckily though, she isn't alone, and maybe with her new family 28 years won't be so hard.
1. Escaping the Curse

**Hello!**

**Guys! A new fic! I can hear your cheers all the way from here, lol ;)**

**I know I should be updating one of the other fics I'm working on, see I've been without internet except for what I use on my phone for a MONTH. Awful I know, right? So readers of Like No One's Watching and Faith is Able fret not because I have a lot of extra time on my hands right now and will be updating both of them this week. **

**With that out of the way, I have been working on this story off and on since January, waiting to begin posting until I had it more or less done because this will be my longest story to date! I KNOW that what-ifs of Snow making through the wardrobe have been done to death, but I hope that mine is different enough that it keeps your interest!**

**So sit back, and enjoy and don't forget to let me know what you think!**

* * *

**Memories Keep You Near**

The sickening sounds of battle echoed through the castle halls. People were shouting, everyone was panicking. Somewhere Red howled.

I clutched my swollen belly tightly. I had known the day was coming. Regina had promised it would. The day all of this would end. My home, my life, my friends, my _husband _were about to be taken away from me, and there wasn't a damned thing I could do to stop it. The only thing that I could do was to save my child, and to save my child, I must save me.

Charming, my wonderful husband, my best friend, was curled up in bed beside me, clutching his sword in one hand while the other rested protectively on top of my round stomach. We should have been in the nursery by now, and we would need to leave right then if we hoped to make it before the soldiers got upstairs, but we both knew that as soon as we did, we may never be able to hold each other again. And if we did, it wouldn't be for a very, very long time.

"It's gonna be okay, Snow," he whispered in my ear. "How do you feel? How's Emma?"

"I've been feeling pains," I admitted. "I think she may be coming!"

He moved so he could meet my eyes, and my heart shattered at the look in them. At the tears, the agony. Yet behind that there was hope, my Charming was never without hope, and that was one of the thousands of things I loved about him.

"Charming," I hadn't meant for it to come out in a whimper, but I couldn't help it. "I don't think I can do this alone. Raise her alone."

"Yes, you can," he said, taking my face in his hands. "You are Snow White. I believe you can do anything! You will take our baby to safety, and love her and prepare her. And in 28 years, you will find me and save me as I saved you."

Suddenly the door burst open. "The wardrobe, it is ready!" Geppetto exclaimed, frantically waving for us to follow. With the door open, I could hear that the battle had gotten much closer than we thought. Something crashed, like a heavy object falling over, and I jumped. My little one jumped with me.

"Come on!" Charming said, pulling me up with him. "We have to hurry!"

When I got to my feet, a sharp, agonizing pain hit my belly and lower back and I cried out.

Charming looked helpless for a moment before taking me up into his arms, no easy feat what with my size and weight. "If I may never hold my child, I can at least hold her while she is within you!" he meant it as a joke to calm me down, but my heart only broke further at the thought that he could never hold our daughter.

He ordered Geppetto to take his boy and hide, and ran with me toward the wardrobe. We were almost there when three of Regina's soldiers appeared, blocking our way. Charming sat me down gently, then gave me a charged look before lunging for the enemy, sword drawn.

I backed behind a suit of armor, fear twisting inside me as I watched the three against one battle. One of the men turned and faced me, his coward's face hidden behind black mesh, and while Charming was busy with the other two, he came at me.

I nearly froze in panic, but my fight instincts won over, coupled with fierce protectiveness of the life inside of me, and I reached over to draw the sword from the suit of armor. I was just in time to block his lunge aimed right at my stomach, but not before it could graze my belly just slightly.

I realized quickly that I was no match for him in my condition, but I blocked his attacks with every ounce of strength I had, until he suddenly stopped and let out a gurgled gasp before he fell. Charming stood behind him, bleeding from his shoulder. He yanked his sword out of the man's back with an angry tug.

"Are you okay?" we asked simultaneously, quickly examining each other's wound.

"Do you think he hurt the baby?" Charming asked, uncharacteristic panic lacing his voice.

"No! It isn't deep," I assured him, and we spun around to make our way to the nursery.

The tree looked smaller than I remembered, and it had a simply-made door cut into its middle.

"What will happen when I go in there?"

"I don't know," Charming said, staring at the wardrobe but grasping my shoulders. Another pain hit me, but it was milder and I breathed through it.

He turned back to me and his eyes roved my face, as if trying to commit it all to memory. I just kept thinking that this couldn't be happening, that I would wake up and he would be in bed beside me and this was all some terrible nightmare.

"You'll wait for me, right?" I asked, my voice feeling small.

Charming took my face again. "Of course I will wait for you, Snow. I would wait a lifetime and more. You don't have to worry, 28 years will just fly by for you, I promise! Please, my love, try and live and be happy with our daughter. Tell her how much I love her."

"I will," I promised. "I will tell her every day. And I'll see you again, soon."

A banging sound from outside alerted us that more soldiers had arrived, and were trying to break into the nursery.

"You have to go, Snow, now!" he grabbed a dagger from its stand on a nearby shelf; a pretty one with jewels on the handle that we would have one day given Emma, and pressed it into my hands before wrapping something around my shoulders.

Charming took my arm and pulled me to the wardrobe, threw open the doors, and helped me inside. I almost didn't even fit, but managed to situate myself, arms covering my stomach.

"Charming!" I cried, clutching his shirt.

"I love you, Snow," he leaned inside to kiss me, and I kissed him back with every ounce of love and desire I possessed.

He pulled away, face contorted as if doing so was physically painful, then placed a quick kiss to my belly, whispering, "Find me…"

The doors to the library flew open and soldiers ran in right as Charming was shutting the doors.

"I love you!" I shouted.

And then there was nothing.

* * *

I'm not sure if I fell asleep, or was somehow knocked unconscious, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up inside the wardrobe.

But it wasn't the wardrobe. The opening was bigger, and the doors were gone. And outside the opening…was a forest.

I hissed as another pain struck, and clutched my stomach and dug my bare heels into the rough wood on which I sat until it passed. Once it was gone, I sat a while longer, feeling dazed and scared and so utterly alone.

It happened. It really happened. Regina cast her curse, and I escaped it. But Charming didn't. Tears sprung to my eyes as I thought of him. Was he hurt when the soldiers broke in? Was he…no, I couldn't think that way. Charming was alive. I had no idea where he was, but he was alive. I would feel it otherwise.

Sucking in a breath of air, I slowly emerged from what turned out to be a gigantic tree. The hole I was in seemed to have suddenly been blasted into the bark upon my arrival. A quick look around revealed that I was in a dense, quiet forest, very much like home. _Wait…it isn't home…is it?_ I thought. Could the wardrobe have only sent me into the woods? _Maybe Regina's curse failed! Maybe I can just go home!_

Suddenly I heard what sounded like growling, which quickly grew into an ear-splitting roar. I covered my ears and backed toward the tree, drawing my dagger, and looking around for the danger.

My eyes followed the sound and I looked up into the sky to see a shiny, white…thing with wings, as big as a dragon, glide by overhead. It was gone before I could even really see it, but it didn't even look alive.

_No_. _I'm definitely not home._

My heart was pounding. If I wasn't home, where _was _I? Rumplestiltskin hadn't been specific on exactly what the curse would do to us, only that we'd be trapped in time with no more happy endings. "The wardrobe was meant to send us to safety," I murmured to Emma, who was kicking fiercely from my previous scare. "So we must be safe here, right? Just have to decide what to do now."

A rustle in the bushes caught my attention, and my heart began to race again. I gripped the handle to the dagger, wishing that I had my bow, or at least a sword.

Praying that it was just a little animal, I spoke gently. "Who is there?"

A mop of red hair peeked out from behind a tree. Of all things I thought I might see, Geppetto's little boy was certainly not one of them."

"Pinocchio?" I exclaimed.

The boy emerged slowly from the bushes, clutching his hat tightly in shaking hands and looking like a frightened rabbit.

"Pinocchio, what are you doing here?" I was really confused. _How did he get here? _

Pinocchio just fidgeted with his hat, and looked positively terrified. Of what? Me?

I put my dagger in the belt of my dress and moved closer. "You don't have to be afraid, it's only me. What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," he said, his voice wobbling. "My father said it was the only way."

"Pinocchio, I'm confused, what are you talking about?"

He took a step closer. "My father, he put me in the wardrobe.

I felt my eyes widen, and my stomach lurch with something that had nothing to do with the baby. _No_. "What? But how? The wardrobe…it could only take one."

He shook his head then spoke in a rush. "No, Your Highness. The Blue Fairy said it took two, but my father would not build it unless I went in. I'm sorry! I didn't want to lie, but Father said that sometimes we must lie to protect those we love! Please forgive me, Snow White!"

I backed away from the boy, putting out a hand to the tree to support myself as my world turned on its end. I had been tricked. The wardrobe took _two_. Not one. _Charming,_ I thought, beginning to breathe heavily. _He could have come through with me…_

Pinocchio started to cry, and though my anger at being ripped from my husband unnecessarily was there, I knew I couldn't take it out on this poor little boy, who had just lost his family, too. And really, would I have not done the same thing to save Emma had I been in Geppetto's shoes? It didn't quite excuse Blue's lying, but what was done, was done. Only now I didn't just have myself and my unborn child to worry about, I had a seven year old boy to worry about too.

I could cry about the injustice later.

Pulling myself together at last, I sat clumsily on the ground against the tree. "Pinnoch, sweetie it's okay, don't cry. Come here."

The boy approached me slowly, flinchingly, as if afraid I'd suddenly hit him or something. It sort of hurt, as I had never been anything but nice to the child, but I suppose he didn't know me well, nor I him for that matter. I never really paid much attention to children in all honesty. I loved the one inside me so bad it hurt, but before that, I had little patience for them. I had simply never been around them.

So now I awkwardly tried to comfort the little boy, and invited him to sit beside me.

"You aren't mad?" he asked, sniffling.

"No," I said gently, running a hand over his head in what I hoped was a comforting gesture. _Oh my, perhaps I'm not cut out to be a mother! I have no idea what to do, here!_ "I'm not mad at you, I was just surprised is all. This isn't your fault, or your father's for that matter."

"No," he said, with surprising ire. "It is the Evil Queen's fault!"

"That's right," I said with an approving pat. "It's the Evil Queen's fault. But what is done, is done. And now we must figure out what has happened, and where we are. Oh!" I clutched my abdomen and doubled over, groaning in agony.

"Your Highness!" Pinocchio exclaimed, standing up and putting a hand on my shoulder. "Your Highness, are you alright? What can I do?!"

The pain faded, and I couldn't help but smile at the boy's sense of duty. "I'm okay, Pinocch. I think Princess Emma is just about ready to come out and greet us, is all!"

The boy's eyes went round as saucers. "She's going to come out? _How_?"

Oh dear. Not only was he only seven, but he had also only even been _real_ a year. The pains were becoming more and more frequent. I didn't know much about childbirth, but from what Doc had told me, this meant that Emma truly was well on her way.

"Can you help me stand up?"

Jumping to assist, Pinocchio grabbed my arm and helped me to stand. "We need to find help…a village, or something," I said.

"I think there is a road this way," he said, pulling me.

"You think?"

"Well, it looks like a road…just not one I have ever seen before. It is a dark, scary looking black."

I hesitated. "Well if it was scary looking, perhaps we should avoid it."

"Everything so far here is scary."

He had a point there.

Another wave of pain hit me, only this time, it was accompanied by a sudden rush of wetness between my legs. I froze, terrified.

"What is it?" the boy asked, frightened.

"The baby," I said, and then gasped in pain. "She's coming!"

I gripped Pinocchio's arms hard as he struggled to help me sit back down. I registered the grimace of pain on his face, but I couldn't make myself loosen my hold, and he braved through it without a word.

I cried out, feeling the most searing, agonizing pain I have ever felt. None of the countless injuries I had incurred in battle, not the terrifying pain of my throat closing up when I bit into that apple, could even compare to the pain I was feeling then.

_This isn't how it's supposed to be._

"What can I do?" Pinocchio exclaimed, bravely fighting back tears.

"You must find help," I said, gasping. Pinocchio froze, his eyes shining with fear, and I fixed him with a gaze I hoped was encouraging "I know it's a lot to ask of such a little boy, but you must! I don't think I can do this alone!"

I screamed again, and Pinocchio took off without another word. All I could do was hope that he could find someone to help.

* * *

Pinocchio could have been gone minutes, hours, or days for all I knew. All I was capable of doing was screaming in agony.

Pure instinct led me to press my back against the tree, and bend my knees, feet braced against the moist ground. The urge to push was unmistakable, and I groaned, feeling as if my whole body would just rip apart.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to be at home, in my bed, with Doc there to deliver because I refused to trust any midwife. Charming would have been at my side, holding my hand, no matter how hard I squeezed. He would be beside me, not out pacing the hall like most husbands. I knew him. He would want to comfort me, and be there to see our precious baby girl take her first breath.

Instead I was alone, covered in dirt, on a forest floor.

I was vaguely aware of voices, and in my pain-induced stupor I thought for a moment perhaps Charming had found me! But my vision cleared and Pinocchio was beside me, taking up my hand and allowing me to squeeze it. I tried to pull away, unwilling to hurt him, but he held firm.

"Here boy, let me," a gravelly voice said, and Pinocchio's soft little hand was replaced by a large, calloused one. "Hold on as hard as you need, little girl. Won't hurt me."

"Who are you?" I groaned, squeezing the hand despite myself.

"Don't you worry, Hon, we're gonna help you," only then did I notice the woman in front of me. She was older, with graying hair, but rather beautiful. I shrank away in distrust though, closing my legs as if to keep her away from Emma.

"Who are you?" I repeated.

"My name is Elsa, and this here is my husband, Fred. Your little boy told us that you were out here alone, and havin' a baby! You don't have to be afraid, dear, I've had my share of babies."

I knew I was a person who easily trusted, which somehow made me more wary now, but the woman in front of me had such kind eyes. The man beside me squeezed my hand reassuringly, and smiled warmly when I looked at him.

"You told me to find help," Pinocchio said proudly. "And I did!"

"Can we get her to the hospital?" Fred asked.

"No," Elsa said, gently pulling my knees further apart. If I hadn't been in so much pain, this might have been embarrassing. "This little one is comin' right now! I see the head. Boy, what's your mama's name?"

"She isn't my mama," Pinocchio said. "But her name is Snow White."

Elsa gave him, and then Fred a look I was too agonized to decipher. "What's your real name, Hon?"

Somewhere in my pain-addled mind I wondered why my name wasn't good enough, but the old compulsion to use a false name bubbled forth and the lie came easily.

"Mary…" I stammered, "n…umm…Margaret…" oh why couldn't I ever just pick one? At least I didn't say Frosty this time.

"Okay Mary Margaret," Elsa said. Not what I meant, but okay. "When I tell you to push, you push, okay?"

"I think I got that," I said sarcastically through gritted teeth, then shot Fred a glare when he chuckled.

Pinocchio moved as if to look and see what was happening between my legs, but Fred grabbed his arm and yanked him back beside him. "Trust me, boy. You don't wanna know."

"One more push, Hon!" Elsa shouted.

I pushed as hard as I could, screaming out loud enough to send birds flying, and all of a sudden the pressure was gone, and I heard the most beautiful, most miraculous sound I have ever heard.

My daughter crying.

"It's a girl!" Elsa exclaimed, and Fred broke out in a happy chortle.

I flopped back against tree in utter exhaustion, half-aware that I was being supported by Fred. I watched in dazed fascination as Elsa tied off the cord with string, then swiftly snipped it with scissors. She then wiped the squirming pink infant with a fluffy cloth.

"Is she…okay?" I asked, my speech slurred.

"She's just fine," Elsa said softly. "What's this? A blanket?"

At first I didn't know what she was talking about, but my hand moved to my shoulder to feel the soft wool there. I knew it the moment I felt it; the baby blanket Granny knitted for Emma. Charming put it around my shoulders before I left, one last gift before I had to abandon him.

New tears came to my eyes as I removed the blanket from my shoulders with numb fingers and handed it over. I felt like something was wrong, and part of my subconscious was aware that if these people decided for some reason to take off with my baby, there was absolutely nothing I could do. But all I could manage to do was watch, and trust these strangers.

Elsa bundled Emma up in her blanket. "Emma," she said, reading the name stitched on the corner. "Is that her name?"

I nodded, then held out weak arms for my child. Elsa smiled warmly and placed Emma on my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her soft, tiny body. My thoughts were jumbled, half-formed, but I couldn't take my eyes off her perfect face. _She has my chin_, I thought.

"Hi, Emma," I whispered, tears rolling down my face as I touched her hand.

"She's beautiful," Fred murmured.

"So small," Pinocchio said in wonder.

"Fred," Elsa said, and my head shot up at the severe tone in her voice.

Fred stood up, leaving my side and went to kneel beside his wife. "What is it?"

"Is something wrong?" I asked shakily. "Is something wrong with my baby?"

"No, Hon," Elsa said, but I could see the worry on her face. "Emma is fine. You're still bleeding an awful lot though. But don't you worry, an ambulance is on its way."

I couldn't even begin to imagine what an ambulance was, but I was beginning to see dark spots, and my head swam. Emma cried against me.

Frank had jumped up and ran away, saying something about "flagging them down." Elsa was still in front of me, and I felt a wave of nausea when I saw the blood that now covered her. I gripped Emma tighter, but could feel myself losing consciousness. I looked up at Pinocchio, who stood beside me, white as a sheet.

"Take her," I pleaded to him.

The boy looked ready to burst into tears again, but reached down to carefully pick up, then cradle Emma. He looked so small holding her.

Fred was back, hoisting me up into his arms as effortlessly as if I were a child, and so quickly my head spun.

I think I passed out, because when I came to again, Fred was lowering me onto a small cot and three men in white coats were surrounding me.

"No…" I murmured, trying to push them away. "Em...ma…"

"Take it easy, maim," one of them said. "We're going to take you to the hospital."

"Hos..pel?" my vision was coming in and out, and I was vaguely aware that they were pushing my cot toward a swirling red light. "What's…hos-pel? Where's m' baby? Where's Charming?"

The men seemed to be answering me, but their voices were muffled to me.

The last thing I remembered hearing before everything went black, and I heard it clearly, was "Take the baby."

* * *

**And there you have it! So, you like? Want the rest? Tell me so if you do! Any and all feedback is welcome, and if you have suggestions throw 'em out there. The title is from the song Memories by Within Temptation. **


	2. Brave New World

**Because I received such awesome feedback, here's another chapter! This one is pretty long, but I just couldn't find a good place to split it so here ya go. Don't expect all chapters to be as long though.**

**To the anon who made some suggestions about word usage, excellent point on both counts, I'll remember that!**

**Thanks so much for reading!**

* * *

I floated in and out of awareness for I have no idea how long. Whenever I opened my eyes, I was so shocked and frightened by my surroundings that I immediately shut them again. But when I shut them, I went to a place that I thought I'd never go again. The burning room.

In the room I thought of Charming, of Emma, of how I had failed to protect her. The flames licked my skin and I cried.

Finally I felt myself awakening, fully awakening, and this time I was determined to stay that way.

I was in a white room, cold and hard, so opposite from the burning room yet almost as terrifying. There were the brightest lamps I had ever seen burning above me, yet they did not give off heat. There were strange sounds, tweeting and whistling, but there were no birds. Warbling voices that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. I had something stuck into my arm, but when I tried to pull it out, it hurt, so I left it for the moment being.

I was in a strange-looking bed, and wearing an even stranger-looking tunic. Even the smell of the place was like nothing I had ever experienced.

The door to my room (cell?) opened and in walked a man wearing a white coat similar to the men from before. He smiled at me, holding a tablet or something in his hand.

"You're awake!" he exclaimed happily. "Good! How are you feeling?"

"Where is Emma?" I snapped, or more like growled. "Where is my baby?"

The man put his hand on my shoulder, but I flinched away. "Your children are fine," he said gently. "You've had quite the ordeal. How much do you remember?"

I knew I didn't want to tell this man where I came from, I didn't even know if he was good or not. "I gave birth to Emma in the woods," I said. "There was a man and a woman, they helped me," belatedly, I thought about Pinocchio, but the man had said my "children" were safe. I hoped he meant him, too.

"Please, sir, please tell me where my children are!"

"The man and woman who helped you in the woods were named Fred and Elsa, Fred is a retired officer and Elsa a retired nurse. I know them; they're very good people. They took Emma and August home with them. They're in good hands, I promise.

_August?_ I wondered, feeling utterly confused. _For that matter, what are an officer and a nurse?_ I felt uncomfortable voicing my questions to this man, however. He spoke as if I should understand, and I decided it safest to play along as best I could.

"I want to see them," I demanded.

"They should be here any minute," the man said, talking to me like I was a scared child. It made me angry. "In the meantime, may I ask you a few questions? What is your name?"

I furrowed my brow at him. "Who _are _you? Why do you want to ask me questions?"

He looked confused for a moment, then gave a little laugh. "I'm so terribly sorry! How silly of me, my name is Doctor Harrison. I introduced myself to you before, but I suppose you don't remember that. After you gave birth, you began to hemorrhage," I my probable puzzled look, he clarified. "You were bleeding, a lot. We brought you here, to Honor Hospital, and stopped the bleeding, but you needed a transfusion. You accepted the transfusion well, but you've been in and out of consciousness for two days now. It was rough going for you there for a bit, but you're young and strong. You're going to be just fine."

I relaxed somewhat. I was loath to allow any doctor, other than Doc anywhere near me, but since Doc wasn't here, perhaps this one could be trusted. Perhaps.

"And Emma? She's okay?"

"Emma was a healthy, 7 pound, 4 ounces and 20 inches long. She's put on a couple of ounces since then, and she's in wonderful shape!"

Just then, Elsa and Fred barged into the room. I shot up into a sitting position, regretting it when the room spun, but held out my hands regardless. "Emma!"

Doctor Harrison did something to my bed to raise the back, making it so that I could sit up and lean against it, and Elsa hurriedly put Emma in my arms.

"Here she is, missin' her mommy!" Elsa cooed.

Pinocchio popped up beside my bed, staring at me anxiously. "Pinocch!" I exclaimed, then tried to give him a meaningful look. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" he said sincerely. "Are _you _okay Your…" he hesitated, glancing back at Elsa and Fred. I caught Elsa shake her head, almost imperceptivity. "Elsa and Fred said that you just needed to rest. I was worried!"

I smiled at the boy, but was tensed at the way he had looked at the older couple. I longed for a moment alone with him so I could ask him what was going on. "This doctor says I'll be fine, I was worried about you and Emma."

"Elsa and Fred took care of us," he said. "They were nice."

I looked up at them. "Thank you," I said earnestly.

"We didn't mind a bit," Elsa said, and Fred nodded with a smile. "It was nice havin' little ones in the house again!"

I smiled, then gazed down at my daughter. She had changed so much in just two days. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she nuzzled against my chest, mouth opening and closing like a little fish. I laughed, but then winced when she pressed against my breast, which was tender.

Elsa chuckled. "Looks like someone here is hungry!"

"I'll send a nurse in," Dr. Harrison said.

Elsa must have noticed my discomfort because she waved him off. "Nonsense, I used to be a nurse, and have had myself three babies! You men go on, I'll help her."

I relaxed immensely as Dr. Harrison left with Fred. Though he seemed nice, I didn't trust him. For some reason though, I _did _trust Elsa and Fred.

Pinocchio made to leave with them, but I called him back. "Wait, Pinocchio…"

Dr. Harrison chuckled before shutting the door behind him. "That's a cute nickname."

I furrowed my brow at his retreating form, but didn't say anything. Pinocchio came back to my bedside.

"You go sit in that chair over there till we get situated," Elsa told him.

Emma continued to nuzzle me, and I undid some buttons on my tunic. Elsa helped me arrange Emma on a pillow to help support her as the baby eagerly latched herself onto my left breast, sucking greedily. I was stiff at first, slightly uncomfortable about the situation, and the sensation was weird, even painful. But as soon as Emma made herself comfortable, and her tiny little hand found its way to my chest to kneed my skin, I felt myself melt.

Never had I felt anything like it; a love so strong it terrified me. Everything, my entire life and world revolved around this small being. And not just me, the fate of an entire kingdom. Yet I resolved that she wouldn't know that for a while. For now I would just protect her, and love her with every ounce of my being.

"If only your daddy could see you," I whispered, letting her wrap her wandering fingers around my larger one. "He would just fall in love."

"Where is her daddy?" Elsa asked gently.

My head shot up, I had almost forgotten she was there. "Gone," I said simply.

Elsa patted my arm sympathetically, then draped a small blanket over Emma and myself, for modesty I supposed, and told Pinocchio he could come over.

"I watched over her," he told me. "I made sure she was safe for you."

"He sure did," Elsa agreed. "He would hardly leave her side."

"Thank you," I said, and he grinned proudly. I turned to Elsa. "And thank you, how can I ever repay you?"

"Don't you worry about that now, you just worry about gettin' better so you can take your babies home."

_Home. I wish I could just take them home_. I thought miserably. "Elsa? Do you think I could have…just a moment alone with them?" I smiled, hoping she wouldn't take offense, but she only nodded with something like approval on her face and stood to leave.

"I'll be just outside. You holler if you need me."

Once she was gone, I turned to Pinocchio. "What's going on? What happened after Emma was born?"

"They put us in this strange carriage," he said, eyebrows raised. "It had no horses to pull it, and it went so fast! When I asked if it was enchanted, Fred laughed. They brought you to this place…it looks like a castle on the outside, but they call it a hospital. Elsa stayed here with you and Emma at first, and Fred took me to their home in a different carriage. Their house is like nothing I've ever seen, your Highness! Oops…I forgot I shouldn't call you that."

"Did Fred and Elsa say not to?" I asked.

His little face scrunched up. "When they asked me what my name was…I told them…I didn't make one up like you did. But they didn't believe me! They asked what my _real _name was. But I didn't know! I only have one name! And then they asked me where you and I came from…I was afraid that they wouldn't believe me again…but your Highness, I promised the Blue Fairy that I wouldn't lie!"

"It's okay, Pinocchio," I said. "Just tell me what they said."

"Well, I told them that there was a curse, and we were sent through the wardrobe to save us. I told them that you're a princess, and that I had to protect the little princess. But they acted like I was making it all up! Finally Elsa asked if you were my mother, and I said no. That my father sent me with you, and that he couldn't come back for me but that I promised him that I would stay with you and Emma and serve you. Elsa told me not to tell anyone else, and that she would call me something else besides Pinocchio. Fred decided August, because the month is August and we are in a city called Augusta."

"What was so hard to believe about your name?" I asked him. "They didn't like my name either, but they had no problem with Emma…"

Pinocchio took a deep breath, and pulled a bag off his back that I hadn't even noticed was there. "Elsa has a lot of children's books. She said I could read any one I wanted. I didn't tell her I was taking this one, but I didn't steal it…I'll take it back."

Pinocchio pulled a brightly colored book from his bag and handed it to me. I set it on my lap and examined the cover while I rearranged Emma so that she could suckle my other breast, which was feeling sore. It said, _"Walt Disney Storybook Collection" _on the front, and had a few brightly colored drawings of various people and animals.

Pinocchio reached up and opened the book for me, turning to a page half-way through. It was the start of a story called, astonishingly, "_Pinocchio_". It had an illustration of what was clearly supposed to be Pinocchio, Geppetto, Jiminy, and Blue, yet they looked nothing like the real people. I quickly skimmed the story, and found it to be basically the boy's life story!

"Pinocchio…" I breathed in wonder. "This is…you."

"They didn't get everything right, though," he said, sounding slightly affronted. "Some of it is just plain made up. I never turned into a silly donkey!"

"I don't understand, if they know about you here, why wouldn't they believe that's it's really you? Is there another Pinocchio already in this land?"

He shook his head. "No! That's just it, I asked Elsa about it, and she said they're just _stories_. They're not real. They're make-believe. I don't _feel _make believe."

"Because you're not!" I exclaimed, and Emma fussed. I picked her up and held her on my shoulder, like Doc had explained to me, and patted her back while adjusting my tunic to cover me.

"There's more," the boy said, looking up at me with concern. I raised my eyebrows in question. He turned a few pages until my eyes landed on a drawing of a woman with short, black hair and a colorful yet ugly dress, accepting an apple from an old crone. The title of the story was _"Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs._"

"You must be kidding," I murmured in disbelief as I started to read. If some of Pinocchio's details were skewed, my story was just out and out WRONG! "I am not such a damsel in distress!" I exclaimed in outrage. "I didn't just putter around and sing all the time! And I certainly wasn't tricked into eating that apple, I made the choice to save Charming! And the Dwarfs…they would be appalled by these drawings!"

"We don't exist," I breathed. "That's why they wouldn't accept our names or story…"

"Magic doesn't exist here," Pinocchio explained. "I see things that look magic to _me_, but Fred says they're made with tech…tech…tech-a-no-ledg-ly. There's no such thing as magic."

"A land without magic," I said. "That's why we were sent here. Where the curse can't touch us."

"Do you think the rest of the kingdom was sent here too?"

"I don't know…it's possible," I turned to him. "We have to try and learn how to live here like the rest of them, and we _must_ stay together!"

"That's what Elsa said. She said that she'd need to talk to you…she said that's why I couldn't tell anyone my real name or where we're from. She said she didn't want to scare me, but she didn't want me and Emma to get taken away from you."

"That can _happen_?" I asked, appalled, clutching my baby a little tighter. Surely they couldn't take away my own _child_, but I supposed it was possible to take away Pinocchio, who wasn't even mine.

"I think we should listen to Elsa, August," I said, emphasizing his alternative name.

"But the Blue Fairy said…"

"I know, I know, she said you shouldn't lie, and normally you shouldn't. But do you remember what your father said? That sometimes we must lie to protect the ones we love. Now we must lie to stay together. From now on, you're August, I'm Mary…Margaret I suppose, and I'm your mother. All right?"

"Are you really going to be my mother?" he asked in awe.

I sucked in a deep breath, realizing for the first time the full weight of the situation. I was all Pinocchio had left. What choice did I have? I looked into his trusting eyes and decided then and there that…

"Yes, I'm your mother, August. From now on. So I suppose it isn't really a lie anymore, is it?"

August smiled, seemingly excited about the prospect, and shook his head emphatically. I smiled back, surprised by the rush of affection I felt for the boy.

"How's everything goin'?" Elsa asked, sticking her head back in.

"Just fine," I said. "Please, come in."

Fred followed her in and shut the door behind them. "The doctor said you might can leave tomorrow."

My face fell. Where would we go? I had no clue what lay beyond that…hospital. The woods I supposed was always an option, it wouldn't be the first time I lived off the land. But with a child and a newborn?

"Mary Margaret," Elsa began. "Fred and I have been talking. I can tell you've been through something, and August here says that you have no family…no one here that you know?"

I bit my lower lip and shook my head, hating feeling so helpless.

"Well then, in that case, we'd like the three of you to come home with us."

I gasped. "Really? We wouldn't…impose?"

"Course not!" Fred said. "We got plenty of room, and an empty nest since all our kids have moved away! We won't take no for an answer!"

"Then you won't get one," I said, fighting back tears. "Thank you."

Elsa stood beside me and held out her arms for Emma. "Why don't you hand her here, and get some sleep? I'm sure you want out of this place, so you need your rest!"

I hesitated, loath to part from her for even a moment, but my eyelids were drooping.

"Don't you worry," she assured. "I'll sit right here in this chair and rock her while you sleep. I won't take her away."

I handed the baby over, touched by Elsa's easy understanding of my feelings, and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next day, Dr. Harrison pronounced me fit to leave, but I had to take it slow for the next few weeks and get plenty of sleep. He gave me some pills to swallow, called them "vitamins", and though I agreed to take them, I secretly decided against it. They reminded me too much of Regina's alchemy.

Elsa brought me a new change of clothes; a billowy yellow dress with flowers all over it. When I put it on I gasped in shock and more than a little scandal when I realized that not only did it have no sleeves, but it only reached down to my knees, baring my legs most immodestly. And it was only one layer; there were no petticoats, no corset. The only undergarment Elsa provided was but a slip of cloth that covered nothing. Never, not even wearing men's breeches had I felt so exposed.

I looked in the mirror of the washroom, (that was an entirely new adventure, we had plumbing back home, but nothing like the things I found in there,) and frowned at my paler than usual complexion and matted hair that a nurse had tried in vain to bring order to. However, despite the immodesty, the dress was quite pretty, and if the show of skin was normal in this land, I found that it didn't bother me. In fact, I found I quite liked it. It was comfortable, and Charming did always like my legs.

Slightly too-big black slippers completed the outfit, and I smirked at myself. _If Johanna could see me now._

When I emerged, one of the nurses was waiting for me with a paper in her hand that sat on a square piece of wood. "I need to fill out Emma's birth certificate," she said cheerfully.

I glanced at Elsa, who nodded in encouragement. "Okay," I said, trying to pretend that I knew what she was talking about.

"What is the father's name?" the young nurse asked.

I hesitated, biting my lip.

"Um…that's okay," she said. "I can leave it blank."

"David," I blurted, using my husband's little-known birth name instead of James, the name he had taken up as Prince.

The nurse smiled and wrote it down. "What was his last name?"

"Last name?" I echoed, looking at Elsa for help.

"For that matter, I don't have your last name either."

"Their last name is Swan," Elsa spoke up.

The nurse looked surprised. "Mrs. Swan, I didn't know you were related!"

"Distant relation, but related still," Elsa said with a satisfied nod, and told me with her eyes to follow along.

"And the father's?"

_A last name…why do these people need a second name? How about Charming…no, well, Swan is simply an animal, so something easy… _"Shepherd?" I ventured, hoping it would pass.

The nurse nodded, clearly accepting the name and wrote it down.

"I'll be right back with the birth certificate, Miss Swan."

Once she was gone, I turned to Elsa with an exasperated sigh. "Thank you," I said. "That was very kind of you, to give us your name."

"First thing that popped into mind," she said with a wave. "Hope you don't mind it."

"Mind? Oh no, Swan is a beautiful…last name. But why is it needed?"

Elsa eyed me curiously. "It…just is. Helps to tell us apart, I guess. Helps us find one another."

That was plenty enough explanation for me, but the look the woman was giving me, as if I had just crawled out from under a rock, concerned me somewhat.

Not long after, the nurse returned with a square of stiff paper. Written on it in the neatest writing I had ever seen was "Birth Certificate," and under it, above small writing that indicated the child's name, it said "Emma Swan." Below that were spaces for the mother and fathers names, "Mary Margaret Swan" and "David Shepherd." It also listed Emma's birth weight, size, and had the most adorable stamp of her little feet.

It was Emma's certificate, but I felt like it was mine, too. My new identity in this strange new world.

"Are we ready?" Fred said, peeking in with August at his side.

"I think so," Elsa replied as the nurse returned with a curious chair on wheels.

I sat in the chair, and gratefully accepted Emma into my arms. August bounced up, and placed a fluffy little stuffed bear into my lap. "Look what I got for Emma!"

"How cute!" I gushed. "Emma's first toy! Thank you August."

August walked alongside me, holding the chair while Fred pushed it. "Now don't be scared," he whispered in my ear. "They're not so bad once you get used to them."

I didn't know what he meant until we emerged from the building through doors that opened by themselves. (_They're sure there's no magic here?) _I was instantly bombarded by sounds and sights I had never experienced before and never expected. There were these…things…they must have been the carriages August spoke of, and they were everywhere, flying past in the distance faster than any wolf.

They pushed me toward one of them, a big blue one that growled menacingly. I looked to August, certain that my eyes spoke of my fear.

"It's all right," he whispered again. "It isn't alive, it won't hurt you. They call them cars."

I put my trust in the little boy, and eyed the car with interest. Elsa took Emma, and Fred helped me to my feet and into the odd carriage. The seat inside was soft, and the whole thing rumbled slightly.

Elsa reached in on the other side and placed Emma into a carrier that sat beside me. She was strapped in securely. "Can I not just hold her?" I asked.

"It's safer this way, Hon," Elsa explained.

August hopped in confidently on the other side of Emma. His obvious ease calmed me somewhat. "Are you sure this isn't alive?" I whispered to him.

"It's not," he said with his hand blocking his mouth from the front of the car where Fred and Elsa were now sitting. "I thought so too, at first. But Fred showed me how it runs. It's a machine!"

Though the car moved fast, I barely felt it. Sights zipped by outside the window, and all I could do was stare in wonder. This land was truly unlike any I could have ever imagined. My natural curiosity piqued, and I suddenly longed to learn everything I could about it. I would need to fast, if I was to live and function like everyone else.

* * *

We rode for some time, I even dozed off and on as the rumble of the car went from startling to soothing. Emma slept peacefully beside me.

When we stopped, we were far away from the town with all its lights and cars. The cottage we pulled up to was not unlike the ones back home. It was beautiful; painted yellow with white trim. A white fence surrounded a lush garden full of flowers and…to my dismay, an apple tree. I could see a forest beyond, and immediately felt at home.

"It's beautiful," I said.

"Why thank you," Elsa responded. "We were just young like you when we bought it. It was a bit run down at the time, and took some work get it looking like this, but I just fell in love with it back then. I thought it looked like something out of a fairytale."

I blinked, remembering what August had said about our land and 'fairytales.' No wonder I liked it.

Though the outside looked like home, the inside was a completely different story. While still cozy, there were items everywhere that I couldn't put a name to. I itched to explore, but I was already feeling run down and achy.

"August," Elsa said. "Would you like to show your mama her room while I start dinner?"

"Sure!" August exclaimed and darted up the stairs. "Come on, Mama!"

I felt surprising warmth at being called "Mama" directly by the boy and held Emma tightly as I slowly made my way upstairs.

"This is my room," he said excitedly, opening the door to a small bedroom painted blue. There were toys scattered here and there, and the bed looked very much like something for a little boy. "Elsa said this was her son's room, and these were his toys, but she said she didn't mind if I played with them! And look at this!" he held up a small wooden marionette. It was of human figure but featureless. He made it dance. "It's me!"

I laughed. "From what I heard, you were considerably cuter than that thing."

He shrugged and dropped the toy, then grabbed my hand to lead me across the hall. "This one is your room."

Inside was a lovely room with light green walls that had a white picket fence and flowers painted along the bottoms, making it look like the garden outside. Everything else, the dresser, vanity, and bedframe were painted white. On the bed was a white quilt stitched with tiny pink flowers, and there was a large window with double doors…much like the one in Emma's nursery back home, and thin white curtains. Beside the bed was a white basinet.

"It's wonderful," I breathed.

"Next door is Emma's room…" August continued, pulling me along.

Emma's room smelled faintly of fresh paint. It was all set up with a white crib, a table for changing, a rocking chair, and toys. A mobile of dancing bears and swans hanged above the crib. Tears sprang to my eyes as I thought of another nursery, one Charming and I decorated ourselves with the help of the Dwarfs, Red and Granny. Even with the threat of the curse hanging above us, we made her nursery as if nothing was going to happen.

"Do you like it?" this time it was Fred's voice I heard. I spun to face him, wiping the tears off my face. "I wanted it to be nice and pretty for when you got here. It was painted blue, since my oldest daughter was a tomboy, but I didn't think no little princess like Emma should have a blue room, so I painted it pink. If you don't like it…"

"Oh, I love it!" I exclaimed, throwing one arm that wasn't holding Emma around him. "I can't believe you did all of this for her, for us! I was crying because…well, you and Elsa are just so kind…"

Fred shrugged, waving off my show of emotion. "We want you to feel at home here. I want you to know that you and the kids can stay here as long as you need to, to get back on your feet.

I hugged him again, and this time he hugged me back.

* * *

"This is delicious," I said at dinner. "What is this called?"

Elsa raised one eyebrow. "Lasagna. And thank you."

"Elsa is a great cook," August said. "Two nights ago she made pot roast! Father used to make roast out of Chimera, but Elsa's was better…" he trailed off, then suddenly stared sadly into his food.

"I know you miss him," I said quietly. He nodded.

Elsa cleared her throat. "Mary Margaret, I don't want to pry, I really don't. So if you don't want to tell me anything, you don't tell me. But are you in some sort of trouble? The things August here was telling us when he first arrived…"

I bit my lip. "I don't really know what to tell you, Elsa. We were in trouble. We had to…" I glanced at the boy. "Escape. I ran to protect Emma, and August's father sent him with me so he'd be safe."

"Safe from what?" she asked.

"Is someone gonna come after you?" Fred asked. "Cause I got a shotgun. Is it the father?"

"No!" I exclaimed. "It isn't the father, and no, no one is coming after us. Let's just say that there was something really bad going on, and we had to get away."

"Were you in some kind of commune?" Elsa wondered.

I actually knew what a commune was. "Sure. Let's go with that."

"What about Emma's father?"

I frowned at my hands as they fidgeted under the table. From the corner of my eye I could see August wince guiltily. "My husband wanted to come, but he couldn't."

"It's my fault," August blurted. "I took his place! He was supposed to escape, not me."

"No!" I exclaimed. "Don't say that!" I glanced at the older couple, who stared in confusion. "There was only room for two," I attempted to explain. I turned in my seat so that I could fully face the boy.

"August, look at me," he did. "Don't ever say that it was your fault, all right? I don't blame you, and neither would Charming. Your father just wanted you to have your best chance, just like Charming and I wanted Emma to have _her _best chance. I'm glad you're here, August. I'm glad you're safe," and I was. Despite missing Charming so badly it hurt, I was happy and relieved that this innocent boy escaped the curse. We had been so absorbed in saving the Savior, we sadly didn't give a thought to the other children in the kingdom. But they could be saved later like everyone else, Pinocchio wasn't even born a real boy. Geppetto's concerns were probably very real.

August smiled sadly and nodded.

Elsa and Fred looked completely bewildered, but didn't ask any more questions. "How about dessert?" Elsa proclaimed. "Do you two like apple pie?"

I blanched, and Elsa must have noticed because she eyed me curiously. "I'm not hungry," I squeaked.

"She does _not_ like apples," August explained. "But I do!"

* * *

After feeding Emma, changing her with the curious diapers, and putting her in her basinet, Elsa directed me to the washroom and showed me how to operate the "shower". No bath I had ever taken ever felt so wonderful.

"There's so much here I don't understand," I admitted to her as I climbed into bed wearing the billowy nightgown she provided.

"Well, when you have questions, you just ask me or Fred, okay? When we're in public, try to pretend that you know what everything is already."

I nodded. "Elsa? August told me something that worried me. He said that he and Emma could be…taken away?"

Elsa sighed. "We've told authorities that you and your son are distant relatives, and that we were picnicking in the woods when you went into labor. We told them that you and August came from…now don't get upset…an abusive situation to explain your strange talk when we first brought you to the hospital. We took up responsibility for you, because otherwise, Emma and August could have been put into foster care. And we didn't want that. I don't fully understand who you are or where you're from, but you seem like nothin' but loving to those kids and no mother should be separated from her child, and that poor boy only knows you."

"I'm sorry that you had to lie so much for us," I said. "You'll have to keep explaining that to me, so that I can remember."

"Can I just ask one thing?" Elsa said, looking uncomfortable.

"Of course. Anything."

"When we found you, August kept calling you "Her Majesty, and Snow White, and himself Pinocchio. Why? I thought maybe the fairytales were just his way of dealing with whatever was going on."

I sighed and eyed her meaningfully. "Do you want the truth? Or do you just want to go with your theory?"

Elsa hesitated. "Maybe my theory?"

"I think that's probably best."

Elsa nodded. "Okay then. Well you sleep tight, and wake me if you need me. My room is just down the hall."

"I will. And Elsa?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you again. For everything."

* * *

That night, when Emma awoke, demanding her feeding, I took her from her bed and brought her to mine. I cuddled her close, realizing that this was the first time I had been really alone with her. I let my tears come then freely. Tears for my husband who would never hold his baby. Tears for my friends and people who, wherever they were, were trapped for something that had nothing to do with them. Tears for a little boy who was ripped from his father and wouldn't see him again until he was a grown man. Tears for that man who had so desperately wanted a son. Everything was ripped apart because I couldn't keep a secret.

_28 years. _I thought miserably. _Emma will be a woman. A beautiful, independent adult. And I will be…oh my gods…I will 56 years old!_ True that it wasn't _so_ old, but the thought about all the lost years to come without my husband made my body ache for him, his kiss, his touch. How was I to wait _28 years_ without him? And Emma…he was going to miss everything. She was going to grow to adulthood without a papa.

"Damn you, Regina," I sobbed into my pillow, trying not to jostle Emma too much. It just wasn't fair.

We were supposed to live happily ever after.

* * *

**Just a disclaimer, I have no children so please excuse any skewed details about childbirth/after childbirth. I did the best I could! Also I'm fully aware that realistically Fred and Elsa would not have been allowed to take August and Emma home, but for the sake of the story, they did. I rationalize that they're well known members of the community so rules were bent. :) That's all, thanks again for reading! **


	3. Breakfast and Television

**Okay guys, not a whole lot of plot development here, but I thought you'd enjoy a bit of Snow being a mommy and discovering the new world around her!** **Twyla Mercedes will recognize one of her suggestions in here...absolutely couldn't resist! Thanks! And thanks everyone for reading!**

* * *

When I awoke the next morning, I felt stiff since I'd slept at an awkward position all night to accommodate the tiny presence of my daughter.

Opening my eyes, the reality of everything sunk in again, but instead of anguish all I could see was the angel sleeping soundly beside me. As if sensing that I was awake, Emma began to squirm and fuss.

Almost giddy to begin the care routine, I sat up on my knees and unwrapped her from her snug blanket, letting her arms and legs flail freely. I changed her diaper, still wondering what on Earth they were made of. Since it was warm in the room, I left her in nothing but the diaper and watched her move her tiny limbs, staring at them as if they were the greatest miracle.

And to me, they were.

She was perfect, from her button nose to her ten fingers and toes, (which I carefully counted.) Her skin was fair like mine, and she had the barest beginnings of wispy blonde hair, making me think she was going to take after her father in that respect. I'd always pictured a child with hair as black as night like mine, but decided I was more than happy to have a golden haired angel. I wondered if her big eyes would stay blue, or change to green like mine, or maybe even brown like my father's.

I ran my finger down the bridge of her nose, then across her brow, then traced her tiny mouth. "I love you," I whispered. "My beautiful baby girl."

Finally fed up with my examination, Emma began to voice her desire to eat. Giggling, I picked her up, abandoning the blanket, and pulled up my nightgown to settle her in for her breakfast, loving the feel of her warm skin against my own.

I settled against the pillows, content to have this quiet time with her, when suddenly the door to my bedroom opened. Remembering that I had my nightgown hiked up to my chest, I scrambled to cover myself with the quilt as August skipped into the room.

"Good morning!" he chirped.

Making sure I was completely covered, I smiled. "Good morning, August."

"Elsa sent me up to tell you breakfast is ready."

"Thank you, tell her I'll be down as soon as Emma is finished with _her _breakfast."

August furrowed his brow, leaning up closer, trying to peek curiously around the quilt.

"What is Emma eating?"

I felt my face redden. How to explain? "I…um…she's drinking. Milk."

"Oh…where is it coming from?"

I blushed even more, though August was innocently unaware of my embarrassment. "It uh…it um…comes from me…"

He scrunched his nose. "It _does_? How? Can I see?"

"No!" I exclaimed. "Um…well that is…it's kind of…private…."

If I wasn't so mortified, I would have laughed, because August still didn't get it. "Why?"

Finally, realizing the boy was insatiably curious, trying to learn seven years of knowledge in just one, I bid him to turn around while I carefully arranged my nightgown, the quilt, and Emma so that he could see the baby and little else.

"Okay, now you may look."

August crawled up on the bed beside me, and I fidgeted uncomfortably. Having been helped to dress most of my life by a room full of maids, I wasn't overly modest, but he _was _only a little boy, and the birds and the bees was not a talk I was prepared to have just yet.

But he only smiled, ignoring the part of my body which I knew he'd notice quite actively on other women eventually, and watched Emma drink greedily. "Oh," he said simply. "Now I understand. _That's _what those things are for!"

I burst out laughing, trying not to dislodge the baby. "Yes, August, pretty much."

"It looks like it makes her happy."

"It does, makes me happy too, to get to feed her and make her healthy."

He nodded, accepting the explanation with no further questions, which made me quite glad, and poked lightly at Emma's feet.

"Are you two coming to eat or what?" Elsa said, peeking her head in.

August raised a finger to his lips. "Shh! Emma is having her breakfast! I finally found out how it works!"

Elsa threw back her head and laughed. "Good for you, now let's leave them to it."

August hopped off the bed and scampered off, leaving me to share a chuckle and an amused shake of the head with Elsa.

* * *

After I'd dressed, I wandered downstairs and joined the small family for breakfast, insisting that I help clean up.

"I want to be of use," I said.

"Well'n that case can you put the eggs back in the fridge?"

I picked up the container of eggs and stared dubiously at the kitchen, wondering which of the baffling contraptions was a 'fridge.'

Elsa chuckled from behind me. "Ever been in a kitchen, princess?"

"Of course I have!" I said, not realizing she was teasing me. "When I lived with the boys I did all of the cooking and cleaning."

Elsa quirked an eyebrow up at me. "Boys?"

I stiffened and made my way stubbornly into the kitchen. There was a stove – okay that was familiar, a sink, a small black box with a window, and a large, rectangular white closet. I tried the white closet first and opened it experimentally, hoping against hope that I was right to avoid any further embarrassment.

When I pulled open the door I was amazed to find that the inside was chilly. I stuck my hand it, staring in wonder. There was food inside, and I deduced that the thing must be to keep the food good, the way I used to store meat in the freezing creek when I was in the woods. I put the eggs in, shut the door and spun around triumphantly, looking to Elsa to see if I could tell by her expression whether I'd done right.

Elsa was watching me curiously, but said nothing about the eggs, so I grinned happily and went to wash the dishes.

After the dishes were clean (a chore that I figured out easily enough, as it wasn't so very different than home) Emma was still content in her bassinet so I wandered into the living room where Fred was sitting in a large, comfortable looking chair and August was on the floor playing with some toys.

Fred wasn't reading or doing anything, just gazing ahead, so I followed his eyes to a large box resting against the wall.

What was strange about the box, however, was that there were pictures inside, _moving_ pictures! It looked very much like a magic mirror, but it wasn't talking _to _Fred, and I reminded myself that there was no magic in this land.

And it wasn't just a face like Regina's mirror, there was an entire world in there. It was like there were people, tiny people, performing a play inside the box.

There was a man shouting into a stick, and when he called a woman's name she screamed to the top of her lungs and rushed to embrace him. The man then directed the woman to play some sort of game.

It was brighter and more colorful, and definitely louder than any play I'd seen and made little sense. Without realizing it I had moved closer to the box, kneeling before it and tentatively touching where the tiny man was, my finger meeting nothing but glass.

"The Price is Right…"

I jumped at the sudden voice behind me and whirled around, flushing when I realized I was blocking the view of the box and Fred was watching me instead.

"Silly game show," he said, not addressing what must have been odd behavior on my part. "Want to watch something else?"

He held a small rectangle out to me, and I took it uncertainly, frowning at the array of buttons.

Sitting away so that Fred could see, I pressed one of the buttons and nearly jumped out of my skin when the image on the box flickered and changed to something else entirely. There was a man speaking into a stick just like the other, but he was standing before a devastated town, saying that the destruction was due to tornadoes caused by someone named Alicia.

The sight disturbed me, so I quickly pushed the same button again, and the image changed again to a group of laughing children being covered in green goop. That one made me laugh, but I pressed it again, wondering what other sorts of things I would come across.

When it changed again, I leapt back in fear, nearly falling to my back, at the sight of the hideous monster seeming to stare right at me. Panicked, I hurriedly tried to press the button that made it change, but I only succeeded in making it louder.

The monster, which now that I was no longer so startled and could look at him properly, looked very much like Rumplestiltskin. His skin was green, and he wore red leather and he even moved in the same flamboyant manner.

But what made me pause and keep staring was that the monster was singing, and dancing in a way I'd never imagined.

The way he moved shouldn't have been physically possible, and he had a hoard of frightening-looking people behind him moving in tandem.

The changing thing fell from my hands and I leaned forward on my hands and knees. The music, though strange to my ears, was enthralling. And the dance, though shockingly scandalous, kept me immobile with fascination.

I couldn't quite understand what he was singing about, only that the word "thriller" was repeated over and over.

"How does he do that?"

I looked behind me and saw that August was now watching and clumsily trying to mimic the dance.

Giggling, I got up to stand beside him, and staring at the box I too tried to do what they were doing. I loved to dance, and was eager to learn every new one that came my way, but this was harder than it looked.

Fred laughed as we kept trying to master the swaying and hopping movements, throwing our hands in the air and shaking our shoulders, and before long August and I were falling over one another in laughter.

"What's goin' on in here?" Elsa asked as she walked in, drying her hands on her apron.

"Mary Margaret and August are trying to be Michael Jackson," Fred said, face red with mirth.

Smiling fondly, Elsa shook her head. "You young people and your MTV. Mary Margaret, as much as I hate to be the killjoy, the doctor told you to take it easy, not do the moonwalk."

I laughed, but sat down on the couch obediently and watched August dance all around. There was a lot I needed to catch up on in this new land.

* * *

After my initial introduction to the 'TV,' I watched voraciously. I could stare like a voyeur as much as I wanted and learned so much about how the people in this world behaved. Some shows I liked better than others. I very much enjoyed watching the music videos (especially if they involved that Michael Jackson person, who, as it turns out, was only wearing a costume that made him look like Rumplestiltskin) and an amusing show called Happy Days, (how could a show called Happy Days _not_ be enjoyable?) But five minutes into Days of Our Lives had me grimacing in disgust when it actually _showed _a man and woman roll in bed together even though they hated one another.

There were also colorful shows that made impossible quite possible that Fred called cartoons. August became enraptured by The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, though I found it quite absurd. The Loony Tunes on the other hand were rather funny.

One afternoon, Elsa presented us with a "video tape" that apparently projected a specific show onto the TV. On the cover was an image similar to the one in August's book of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

I watched in abject horror as Disney's representation of me flounced about in the woods with a silly, wobbly voice and flailed helplessly around, ridiculously afraid of trees. Trees!

We both sneered when The Evil Queen made her first appearance, but she was far too quiet and modestly dressed to pass as Regina.

August sniggered at Prince Charming's outfit, but I gleefully informed him that aside from the stupid hat, it wasn't that far off.

"Well that was just ludicrous," I declared when it was over. (The Queen was killed, but the dwarfs had to do it! I was useless!) However, later on I caught myself tidying August's room singing 'Someday My Prince Will Come.' So maybe the cartoon didn't get it _all_ wrong.

But it made me understand what Fred meant by 'don't believe everything you see on TV.'

* * *

**Just so you know, I was born in '88 so any knowledge of the 80s comes from osmosis from my siblings. Let me know if I get anything glaringly wrong and I'll fix it. Except for the Thriller thing. If you know what I'm talking about, go ahead and call me out on it, but just know that it was deliberate if that makes you feel better. :) Thanks for reading!**


	4. Disipline and Shopping

**Hey guys! A little more family-bonding before I start switching things up! Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Say, Ma – ma. Come on, honey, say Ma – ma!"

Emma's brilliant blue eyes sparkled as she giggled and bounced on my lap. She was only just crawling but she was constantly moving, constantly on the go.

"You can do it, Emma, say Ma – ma…Mama!"

Fred leaned over my shoulder where I sat in the recliner and tickled Emma's neck. "How about Fred? Can you say Fred?"

I chuckled. "She better not say your name before mine."

He only grinned down at me. "Well then give Grampa a try. Come on, Emma, Gram – pa."

I swatted him away playfully and bounced Emma on my knee. "Please say Mama?"

Instead, she reached up and grabbed my nose. "No, silly sprite! Ma…"

Emma and I both jumped when a sudden crash came from the kitchen, followed promptly by Elsa's angered, "AUGUST SWAN, WHAT DID I TELL YOU?" and August's plaintive, "I'm sorry!"

Propping Emma up on my hip I went to investigate. Elsa was a kind hearted woman, but when you made her angry, you really made her angry.

August stood, guilty-faced among the shards of Elsa's sunflower cookie jar, a gift from her youngest daughter. Elsa stood facing him, hands on hips.

"August," I said. "What happened?"

"I'm sorry, Mama!" he cried. "I'm sorry!"

I shifted Emma higher on my hip and looked to Elsa for an explanation, who shook her head and took a breath to control her temper.

"I told the boy that he had to wait until _after _dinner for a cookie, but went right around while my back was turned to get one himself and pulled the jar off the counter."

"August!" I gasped, surprised he would be so deliberately disobedient. "How could you do that? You know better!"

August's eyes widened and filled with tears. "Please, please don't tell the Blue Fairy, Mama! I won't ever do it again I promise! I'll be good!"

"Blue Fairy?" Fred asked, coming in behind me. "Is that a euphemism for somethin'?"

I looked at August's pale face, saw the very real fear on it, and didn't know what to say. Elsa sighed and stepped in. "Go on up to your room, August. Someone'll be up to talk to you in a minute."

Jumping over the ceramic shards August raced to his room in tears while I stood uselessly. "I'm so sorry, Elsa," I said. "I know how much you liked that cookie jar."

"It's just a cookie jar," she said dismissively, but I could tell she really was upset. "It's not that he broke it, that was just an accident. But that's the third time this week he's gone and done just exactly the opposite of what I told him."

I felt my eyes widen. "It is? Why didn't you say anything?"

"I see now that I should, I'm sorry. But you know he needs punished now, don't you?"

"Punished?" I shifted nervously. "Yes, you're right. But…how?"

"That's up to you to decide, Mary Margaret. _You're_ the boy's mother. I know this is all new to you, and that's why I didn't tell you at first. But it isn't my place to discipline him, it's yours."

I nodded, feeling like I'd been rebuked as well, though I knew Elsa was by no means trying to be critical. I passed Emma over to her and told her to leave the mess for August to clean.

* * *

I tried rehearsing what I would say to him on the way up the stairs, but none of it sounded just right. This was completely new territory for me, but territory I knew I'd need to conquer because soon Emma would be in need of direction and I wanted both of my children to grow into good, honest adults.

But I didn't know what I should do. Spank him? I'd certainly had my share of spanking when I was little, dealt by the hand of Johanna and even once or twice by my mother. I didn't think that's what August needed though. Because he already knew the consequences if he didn't behave the way he was supposed to.

"August?" I called, opening the door.

The boy sat on his bed, holding his wooden marionette and sobbing. All frustration at him flew out the window and I rushed to his side and pulled him into my arms.

"I don't want to be a puppet again!" he cried into my chest.

"Shh…no, August, hush. You're not going to turn into the puppet you were. Shh..."

"But the Blue Fairy said I have to be selfless, brave and truthful or I won't get to be a real boy anymore. And I try to be good! I really, really do! But sometimes…"

"You make mistakes," I finished for him. "We all do, sweetie. I make them, Elsa and Fred make them. Even the Blue Fairy makes mistakes."

His eyes widened to the point I had to fight a smile. "She _does_?"

"Mmhmm," I nodded. I knew of one very specific sin, in which she lied to us about the wardrobe, but I saw no sense in reminding him of that. "All we can do is do the best that we can, and when we make mistakes, we try to correct them and then try never to make those same mistakes again. Do you understand?"

He nodded. "Yes ma'am."

I hugged him tight. "That's my good boy. Now, I don't ever want to hear about you disobeying Elsa again, do you hear? She does so much for us, and that's an awful way of repaying her."

His eyes watered up again. "I'm sorry."

"I know you are. But you need to go downstairs and tell Elsa how sorry you are and clean up the mess you made. You're also going to ask her what chores you can do to pay for the jar, and you may have no cookies for a week."

"A _week_?" he lamented.

I tried not to chuckle. Of course _that _was the part that upset him. "A week. Now come on, let's go."

I ushered him out of the room, and he went directly to the kitchen and recited his punishment to Elsa along with a heartfelt apology. Elsa smiled at me and nodded in approval.

"I'm sorry again," I told her while August meticulously swept up the shards.

"Don't think anything of it," she said. "You handled it very well, Mary Margaret, very well indeed."

I flushed slightly under her praise, feeling very undeserving. "I don't know what I'm doing."

She chuckled heartily. "Oh darling girl, none us of do, not at first…not ever really. We just do what we can for them."

After a beat, I gathered the nerve to ask the question that had been floating around in my mind for weeks now. "Elsa? Why have I never met your children?"

I knew that Elsa had two daughters and a son, but that they all lived far away. I didn't see why that was an excuse in this world though, since airplanes could get them here as fast as lightning. Thanksgiving had passed, a very pleasant holiday, one that appeared to be one families spent together, and so did Christmas. They received phone calls from each of them both of those days, but no more.

Elsa sighed, and for a moment looked much older than her 60 years. "Because I wasn't as good a mother as you are to these kids, Mary. I made mistakes, we both did. And by the time we tried to make it right, well, I guess it was too late for them."

It seemed terribly unfair to me. I hated to think that if I made mistakes with my children, that they would never forgive me. Thoughts of Emma, of her future, her destiny flashed through my mind and made me shudder. What if she hated me for it? "I'm very sorry," I told Elsa.

"Me too."

"Why did you take us in?" I asked suddenly. "You didn't know us."

She shrugged. "I…" then she looked contemplative, like she hadn't thought of it before. "I…trust you."

That didn't seem like much of an answer, but I let it drop. Truth was I had no idea where we would be without Elsa and Fred. I had only an inkling of how this world worked, and it scared me. It wasn't as easy just to exist and blend in. People were numbered in this world, accounted for. If you didn't fit the mold, you had no place.

I felt like an outcast all over again.

* * *

The day came at last that Elsa deemed August and I ready to go back to town. Emma babbled happily as I wrestled her into a jumper, as if she knew she was going on an adventure that day.

I had been wearing borrowed dresses from Elsa's daughters, both women taller and broader than me, and she decided that I needed some new clothes of my own that fit properly.

"A woman as pretty as you should be more fashionable," she said.

I had been watching TV to see how people in this land acted and dressed, and was for the most part, appalled. Women dressed like prostitutes, and men behaved toward them disgustingly. Sex was openly and crudely discussed in public, and treated like something casual and meaningless, not something to be shared by people who love each other.

Back home, I was considered quite unconventional. I dressed in pants, rode horses like a man, even lived with seven of them for that matter. And though, contrary to popular belief, Charming and I had in fact waited until after we were unofficially married before making love, we had been known to share a tent during wartime before that. I considered myself open to many of the new, scandalous-to-me things of this land, but there was also much I wasn't. Luckily Elsa agreed, so at least my opinion wasn't strange.

Some of the fashion I saw on TV, however, was appealing. I had always liked clothes, and the prospect of a new wardrobe was exciting to me.

I fingered my hair nervously as we approached the town. Elsa had been forced to cut some of it off because we just couldn't get it untangled after my stay in the hospital, so now it hung just past my shoulders.

Even though I expected all the cars, strangely dressed people, and sheer bustle of the city, it still came as a shock.

We passed buildings with signs so bright they almost hurt to look at. One that caught my attention was a gigantic yellow M. Another place proclaimed to house the King of Burgers. A cluster of cars that slowed our progress to the clothing merchant revealed to be caused by several of the cars that had crashed into one another. I recognized the ambulances that were there to help the injured people. It looked much worse than a wagon crash, and suddenly I didn't feel as safe in Fred's large blue car.

Our first stop was a store that sold baby things. "I already have everything I need from your children," I said, wandering through the store in amazement. Never had I see so many tiny clothing items in one place. "And besides, I haven't any money."

"You've already paid us with all the help you give us," Elsa reasoned. I had taken up many of the household duties, such as cleaning, gardening, (thankfully no one questioned my aversion to that apple tree), and sometimes even cooking. I tended to stick to more familiar methods of cleaning, but the vacuum cleaner Elsa showed me how to use was pretty nice.

"But still…" I said, still hesitant. But Elsa wouldn't take no for an answer, never would. So I started to pick out adorable little outfits.

"Look, Mama!" August exclaimed, running toward me, holding a dress that depicted a version of Cinderella that was much like the cartoon Snow White. I had learned that Ella's story was somewhat more accurate than most. We bought it.

I became instantly attached to little headbands with bows on top for Emma's hair, and gravitated toward a red one much like the ribbon I wore in my hair when I was little. Emma, for her part, became instantly attached to a soft, friendly-looking stuffed dragon, and there was really no choice but to get it for her once she held it in her chubby little arms and cooed at it lovingly. Her father's daughter.

The next store we went to sold clothes for adults and children. First we visited the children's section where we helped August pick out several outfits and shoes. He was thrilled, saying that he liked these clothes better than his old ones…but could he still keep his hat?

We finally made it to women's clothes, and I was intimidated at first by the large selection. Clothes were usually just made for me and given, or in the case of my fugitive days, made by my own hand. What made me happy though was the fact that in this land, pants apparently were common for women.

My eyes were assaulted by the array of bold flower prints and brightly colored shapes that adorned the clothing. I found blouses with padding in the shoulders that made them appear wide and broad, almost comically so. Those looked like something Regina would wear, and were immediately discarded.

Instead I stuck to simple, unadorned clothing in colors of brown, black, blue and – of course – white. Colors that I was used to. The exception came in the form of vibrant red dress that I wasn't going to get until Elsa convinced me that it looked too good on me not to own. Elsa seemed to approve of all my choices, and for that I was glad.

Another thing I appreciated about this world were the undergarments. When on the run in the forest, I had to do without, which was liberating but not always comfortable. The underthings here were a mixture of the two worlds, something for support without the pain of a corset. They did have corsets too, I noticed, but the flimsy things hardly looked like they'd do the job and had way too many frills and sheer panels to be useful.

At the end of the day, each member of my little family had a new wardrobe, and we even ate at a type of tavern called a "restaurant" which was a real treat. Elsa and Fred introduced us to the remarkable world of "Chinese food."

* * *

That night I dressed Emma in her new pajamas that proudly proclaimed "Princess" on the front with a little crown. I was delighted how that in a land with no royalty, clothing could bear the title of Princess that any child could wear. I giggled, thinking how Charming would like it.

My thoughts drifted to him as they always did, especially at night. I wondered if he would like my new clothes. It was silly; he had never cared if I was wearing patch-work fur, or a ball gown. He always looked at me as if I were the most beautiful woman in the world.

A soft knock at the door broke me from my thoughts. I opened it to find August, also wearing new pajamas, ones that bore the image of a super man, fidgeting nervously.

"Everything okay?" I asked. "I thought you were asleep."

"I had a bad dream," he said. "I dreamt that I couldn't find my father," he sniffed, trying not to cry.

I bit my lip, unsure how to handle the situation. I followed my instinct though, and asked him if he wanted to stay with me.

With no hesitation, the little boy happily hopped onto my bed, immediately burrowing under the covers. I giggled at how cute he was. I checked on Emma to find her curled up with her dragon, fast asleep…for the moment, and then crawled into bed beside August, who cuddled up to me as if he had always done so.

I relaxed slowly, bringing my arms to hesitantly wrap around him. He was asleep in seconds, breathing evenly against my neck. I pressed a kiss to his head and nestled down further, hugging him tight.

That was when it hit me, really hit me. August had won my heart as surely as Emma had when I heard her voice for the first time. When it had stopped being an act and he had become my son, I wasn't sure. But I was sure of one thing, he was _my son_.

"I love you, August," I whispered into his hair.

"Love you, too, Mommy," he mumbled back, using the honorific native in this land.

In her basinet, Emma wiggled but I watched her settle back down. Nothing would assuage my grief over Charming, but for the first time I smiled contently. Happy, just as Charming wanted me to be, with my family: my beautiful baby girl and my precious little boy.


	5. Back to School

"Mom! Mom! I can't find my backpack!"

"Well, if you would just put it on the hook that was put there _for your backpack_, you wouldn't keep losing it!"

I shot August a stern look when he rolled his eyes at me, but produced his backpack from under the table with a flourish. "Now hurry up, you and your sister are going to be late for your first day back to school."

"I'm going to Kindergarten! I'm going to Kindergarten!" Emma sang excitedly as she skipped through the house.

"I can't believe our princess is starting school!" Fred exclaimed, swooping a giggling five-year-old into his arms.

"Grampa!" she squealed. "You're gonna mess up my dress!"

"Oops," Fred said, putting her back down and bowing comically to her. She giggled all the more.

"And let's not forget our 6th grader here," Elsa called from the kitchen. "August, do you have your lunchbox?"

"Can't I bring money for lunch, Mom?" August asked. "None of the other kids are gonna bring lunchboxes!"

I shared a look with Elsa and pulled a few dollars out from my purse. "Here you go, I wouldn't want you being embarrassed. Now kiss your Granma and Grampa goodbye."

Emma happily obliged, but August did so a bit more grudgingly. Ever since he turned twelve, open displays of affection suddenly embarrassed him. At first I was hurt, but Elsa assured me it happened with all boys, so I let it go.

After a few pictures taken on the front porch, I ushered the kids into Fred's truck. "Come on, kiddos, let's go. Move it."

Fred had used his connections in law enforcement to obtain me identification, and later taught me how to drive a car. It made life much easier, and I had actually taken to driving quite easily. That one incident with a mailbox notwithstanding.

Emma chattered excitedly from her car seat, thrilled about about her first day of school. She'd picked out her outfit herself; her new red and black checkered jumper with a frilled white blouse underneath. The pink glittered shoes she paired with them far from matched, but I simply didn't have it in me to deny her enthusiasm for creativity. Luckily she let me wrangle her into a hair ribbon, so the compromise worked out. She clutched her pink My Little Pony lunchbox, which she'd covered in Transformers stickers, to her chest and all but trembled with excitement.

"You'll like it, Emma," August told her. "You're so smart, it'll probably be easy for you. Not like me."

"Hey," I broke in, looking at him in the rear-view mirror. "You've been catching up really fast, I bet this year will be a lot better for you."

August had struggled with school ever since he had started third grade. He already knew how to read, write, and perform math, but in any subject relating to history or geography, he struggled, understandably so. But that difficulty had dampened his confidence in all other subjects, and he was also shy socially. One day he came home from fourth grade in tears because some boys had been picking on him. He screamed that no one liked him, that he was just a stupid puppet.

Elsa and Frank had been bewildered by the outburst, but I understood and my heart broke. I sat him down, took his hand to place on his chest so he could feel his heartbeat to show that he was just as real as anyone. He wouldn't listen, feeling miserable and out of place. It may have been over-dramatic, but I took a needle and pricked his finger, and then my own, showing him that we bled the same. And as for being outcast, I was in the same boat as he.

"It's hard for either of us to belong," I told him. "Trust me, I know. But please, don't ever call yourself that again. You didn't used to be alive, but Emma didn't used to be alive either, did she? But you watched her be born. You were born too, just differently. And you're my son, every bit as much as Emma is my daughter, do you understand?"

Though my assurances came with stammers and awkward hand gestures, August had understood, and things got better. He even made a few friends. But he still never quite felt like he belonged. I worried that maybe he never would, but then, I didn't think I would either.

I dropped August off at his new school, but forced myself not to walk him in. "You're gonna do great," I told him simply.

He smiled. "Bye, Mom."

"Here we are," I said, pulling up to the Elementary school. "First day of Kindergarten!"

Emma had grown quiet, and eyed the building warily. "You didn't walk Auggie into school," she said, ever the independent.

"Auggie is in middle school," I reasoned. "When you get to middle school, I'll stop walking you to class on your first day."

Emma seemed to find that logic acceptable; nodding with the adorable seriousness only my little princess could conjure. I stared at the little line on her forehead that formed whenever she frowned, and thought for the millionth time how like her father she was.

* * *

"Hello, Emma!" Emma's teacher, Miss Bright exclaimed when we entered the bright, cheery room. "Hi, Miss Swan!" Miss Bright was younger than me and full of energy. I joked with her at Open House that she'd need that energy with my fireball. But Emma had taken to her famously already, like she did with most people. I had yet to meet a person who could ignore Emma's charm.

"Hi," I greeted, then turned to Emma. "Okay, sweetie, I'm gonna go now."

Emma looked worried, but I knew that it just wasn't in her nature to ask me to stay. In that way she was just like me. "Bye, Mommy."

I kissed my baby girl goodbye, determined not to get emotional in front of her. "Have a fun day, baby. I'll see you soon"

"Miss Swan," Miss Bright called before I left. "Would you be interested in being a Class Helper?"

"What's a Class Helper?" I asked.

"You just come into class a morning or two a week, and help out with our daily activities. You would be in rotation with Connie's mom and Henry's mom. It's just for like an hour or so, however much time you can manage."

"I'd love to!" I said immediately. "I can be here in the mornings, I just have to be at work at 11."

"That's fine," Miss Bright said, bright at ever. "Can you start Thursday?"

"Sure. Did you hear that, Emma?"

"Yeah!" Emma exclaimed. "Mommy gets to go to school with me!"

* * *

Though the offer of being Class Helper in Emma's class made my day, by the time I got to work, I was feeling depressed again.

O'Donoghue's was a small greasy spoon and pub, owned by the portly and cheery Roger O'Donoghue. Roger and Fred were old friends, and from the time I came to live with the Swans we visited the diner almost weekly. The kids adored Roger, as did I, and when one day I enquired shyly about working to earn a little money, he graciously allowed me to work for him for just a few hours a day, and sometimes nights so that I could spend the majority of my time with my children.

I waited tables, work which suited me just fine, though I sometimes couldn't stop the pinch to my pride when I thought back to my life as a princess, especially when dealing with irate customers. But even though Elsa and Fred still refused money from me, I liked having some of my own. It made me feel more independent.

"Why the long face, May May?" it was a nickname he started years ago which quickly spread. "You look like someone just kicked your dog."

"I suppose that means I look sad?" I asked, putting on my apron. "Emma started her first day of Kindergarten today."

"You don't say?" he said. "Already? Seems like just yesterday that she was taking her first steps right over there next to that table!"

I nodded. "I know, I can't believe it. And August just started middle school. They're growing up so fast! I can barely keep up!"

I was amazed by the truthfulness of that statement. 23 years still felt like forever away, but I couldn't help but regret how quickly my little baby was growing.

Roger shook his head. "'Fore you know it, they'll be grown."

_Before I know it…she'll be 28_. I thought and then another voice entered my head, an insane voice with an evil laugh: _And the final battle will begin!_

* * *

As it turned out, being Emma's Class Helper was the highlight of my week. Not only did I get to spend extra time with my baby, I found I thoroughly loved working with children. Go figure since five years ago I wasn't even sure I liked kids. They started out calling me "Emma's Mom", but eventually Miss Bright conditioned them to call me Miss Swan, and when one of their little hands shot up into the air calling my adopted name I just jumped to attention.

"You're really good at this," Miss Bright told me one morning. "Working with the kids I mean. You'd make a really good teacher."

"Really? You think so? You know the more I've been here, the more I think I would really like doing just that."

"You could go back to school," she suggested. "Take night classes. That's what I did."

I wondered how one could go "back" to school if one had never been, not in this world anyway. But the idea was firmly planted in my head, and I knew I couldn't just wait tables five hours a day for the next 23 years. "Thanks, Miss Bright."

"Please, call me Emily. Chris! That is NOT food!"

* * *

After a lengthy discussion with Elsa and Fred, I decided to go to school to become a teacher. First I had to take a test called a GED, which I had to study intensely for. Like with August, the English and Math parts were simple enough, being no different than in my land, but History, Social Studies and most of Science had me stumped. But I found the histories and workings of this world fascinating, so absorbing the facts turned out not to be that much of a chore.

Within weeks I was taking night courses at the community college. It was hard work, but work I enjoyed. I'd missed challenging my body and mind on a daily basis, so between tests and long runs I was feeling more like myself than I had in years. I'd always liked my schooling when I was a child, though school past age fifteen was unheard of back then. My family was only too happy for me.

"How's school going?" Emily asked me while I helped her set up for the fall festival.

"Good," I told her. "I like the classes at the college. My English Literature professor has been especially helpful."

"Professor Hurst, right?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

She giggled. "Because he and my boyfriend are friends. He said that he had this really pretty, but kind of weird woman in his class who looks like Snow White. I knew it had to be you!"

I nearly dropped the handful of gluesticks I was carrying. "He said I look like Snow White?"

"Well, you do," she said, still giggling.

"And wait…_weird_?"

"Well, I wouldn't call you _weird_. Just…quirky."

I narrowed my eyes at her playfully and tossed a gluestick at her.

"Look, a few of our friends are going out tonight for dinner and drinks. You should come!"

"I dunno," I said. This wasn't the first time Emily had good-naturedly tried to drag me out with her and her friends. "I have a test to study for."

"Oh come ON," she groaned. "You don't have class! And you can study tomorrow. You never get out! I'll pick you up at 8. End of story."

* * *

"Come ON, Mary Margaret," Elsa implored, on the other side of my bedroom door. "Your friend is right, you never go out. You need to be with other young people, maybe meet a man?"

I poked my head out and spoke in a rapid, harsh whisper. "I do NOT need a man thankyouverymuch! I have two kids and I'm in school. That is the LAST thing I need!"

I didn't say that I was married and very much still in love with my husband and that I would wait a lifetime if I had to, because I had told her that before. She had said, in no uncertain terms, that I was kidding myself.

"Well, at least go just to have fun," she begged.

"Fine," I called through the door. "I'll go. Happy?!"

"You look blu-tiful, Mommy," Emma said when I emerged at last, wearing a form-fitting black dress that fell a couple of inches above the knee…more inches than I normally wore but I loved the cut.

"Thanks, sweetheart. What do you think, Auggie?"

August wrinkled his nose. "Why are you going out anyway? Are you going on a date?"

"No!" I exclaimed. "I'm just going to dinner with Miss Bright and some of her friends. I won't be too late."

"Well, you don't have to worry about a thing," Elsa said. "We'll get the little ones to bed."

"All the same," Fred said in an attempt at gruffness. "Not too late, young lady."

I grinned and kissed his cheek. "Yes, _dad_."

Fred beamed at the honorific, and opened the door for me.

* * *

When I entered the busy restaurant, I bit back a surge of uneasiness and self-consciousness, both of which were entirely new emotions for me, but even after five years I still felt out of place in this new world.

"May May!" Emily called too loudly, waving me over to her table.

I smiled in greeting to Emily and her boyfriend, then to the rest of the people there. There were two other couples, and unsurprisingly, Prof. Hurst.

"Hi, Professor Hurst," I said, taking the alarmingly obvious and only available seat right next to him.

He smiled warmly at me. "Hey Mary Margaret, and please, outside of class it's just Jim."

"Okay, Jim," I said, smiling politely but having the sinking feeling that this wasn't just about getting me out of the house anymore.

"Mary Margaret is going to school to become a teacher," Emily told the others. "She's in Jim's class," she shot a sly grin my way, and if I could have disappeared under the table, I would have. "For now."

After polite questions about school, the other couples…whose names I never did remember…turned to each other for conversation, keeping up a constant stream of inside jokes I had no clue about. I was acutely aware of the three women's stylish clothes and enormous hair. I just never had been able to embrace what Elsa called the "fad," keeping my clothes simple and hair naturally curled, but I felt like I stuck out.

They were nice, friendly, and I found myself laughing with them when Jim said something funny, but even though I knew I should like being out with other adults my age, all I could think about were my friends back home. I longed to talk with Red about all the strangeness around me, to see her scandalized expression when I told her about being set up with Jim. I wanted to be at a table drinking with the Dwarfs, laughing at all the inside joke _we _had. I wanted Grumpy to yell at me not to break Happy's mug, and we would fall over ourselves hysterically, having turned a rather unpleasant memory into something hilarious.

And as always, I wanted Charming. I wanted him with me so badly. I wanted him to sit with me at that restaurant the way Emily's boyfriend, Rick, was sitting with her. I wanted him to put his arm around me possessively, making it known to Jim, who was at that moment smiling at me in a way that I was pretty sure wasn't appropriate for a teacher to his student, that I was _taken_ damn it.

"Rick is terrible at karaoke," Jim said to me suddenly.

I jumped, having not heard a bit of the current conversation. "I'm sorry?"

Jim chuckled. "Oh, Emily was suggesting we go to a karaoke bar so Rick can entertain us all, I was just explaining that he can't sing worth anything."

I gave a little laugh, trying not to show that I had no idea what karaoke was.

"You okay?" he asked me. "You've been awfully quiet, and I know historically, that is unusual."

I smiled at him, possibly the first genuine smile of the night. It was true, I was a regular chatter box in the classroom, constantly asking questions, because, let's face it, I had a million. Prof. Hurst had to constantly remind me to wait until he was done lecturing, and yet he never seemed to overly mind when my hand shot up regardless.

"I'm fine, just thinking is all."

"How are Emma and August?" he asked, and I could tell he was just trying to get me on a subject he knew I liked.

I perked up, as I always did when my children were mentioned, pleased that he remembered their names. "Oh, they're wonderful! They're so excited about me becoming a teacher. Emma hopes that one day I can teach _her _class. Auggie, I think, may be _afraid _I'll one day teach his class!"

Jim laughed, and I realized for the first time I had never seen him so casual acting, so at ease. In class he was all business, here he seemed like a totally different person. "Aw, that's a boy for you. He probably thinks you'll say something embarrassing. Don't worry, one day he'll realize what a cool mom he has!"

"He'd better! It amazes me how the littlest thing I do makes him just cringe in embarrassment. I only dread the day my Emma decides I'm not as amazing as she thinks I am now."

"Oh, I doubt that. You know even if they're not _showing_ how much they love you, they always do, and you never stop being amazing in their eyes."

"Do…do you have children, Jim?"

He nodded proudly. "A son, he's nineteen now. He's away at college, law school. We had our rough spots, that's for sure, and they can certainly break your heart. But it's so worth it, isn't it? Now he's like my best friend."

I tried to imagine Emma at nineteen years old, wondering if we'll be that close then. "I hope I can have that relationship with them. It's so hard alone," I hadn't meant to add that last part aloud and winced.

"Where's their dad?" he paused, blanching. "Oh, damn, I'm sorry, that was a really personal question."

I gave him a half smile to tell him it was okay, luckily I was well prepared for that question. "He isn't in the picture anymore," the simple answer got the expected result, and Jim accepted it easily without need for elaboration.

"Yeah, Max's mom and I separated when he was ten. Luckily though we kept a pretty amiable relationship, which was good for him. She got a new job after we split, requiring her to travel a lot, so I had custody of Max. So I know what's it's like, being a single parent. It's a lot."

I nodded emphatically. "I have help, thank God. I was so excited when I got pregnant with Emma, so excited to be a mother. I had no idea just how hard it would be."

Jim looked puzzled. "I thought August was the oldest?"

I tensed, biting my lower lip and silently cursing my running mouth. Though it wasn't uncommon, thankfully, in this land to adopt children, I'd always found it easier to just let everyone assume August was biologically mine. "He is, I adopted August when Emma was born. His father…he couldn't take care of him anymore."

"Wow, that's amazing, that had to have been so difficult for you, having a newborn and an adopted child at the same time? August is a lucky kid."

"I'm the lucky one. Auggie is a wonderful boy, and such a loving big brother. Emma just thinks he hung the moon. I know he still misses his father terribly, but I couldn't love him more if he were my own."

Jim smiled. "That's really great. I wouldn't mind meeting them sometime."

"Well, how 'bout it you two?" Emily said, elbowing me. "Karaoke?"

"Oh, thanks, Emily, but I really need to be getting home to the kids."

Emily looked disappointed, but didn't push the matter. As we left, Jim walked me to my car while Emily shot approving winks and thumbs up at me behind his back.

"I really enjoyed talking with you, Mary Margaret, not that I don't _always_ enjoy talking to you, but it was nice when I'm not issuing you homework."

I chuckled. "I had a nice time, too, Jim. You know, when I'm not asking incessant questions," and, amazingly, I _had _enjoyed spending time with Jim. His affectionate smile and the way he kept brushing my shoulder with his own worried me somewhat, but maybe Elsa had been right; I needed to talk to someone who wasn't my child or parent-figure.

* * *

I got home with a smile on my face, causing a line of questioning from Fred and Elsa who had waited up for me.

I poked my head in at August, who was sleeping peacefully. His little hat, the only thing he still had from home, hung on his bed frame, near his head.

I checked on Emma as well, but frowned to see her tossing and turning. I crept in and sat on the edge of her bed, stroked her hair and whispered meaningless words of love. Then I realized that her baby blanket had been kicked away, I picked it up and tucked it under her chin, and she immediately grabbed it and pulled it to her face, like she always did. Her stuffed dragon was wedged securely under her arm.

Even though she was calm then, I sat a while longer, staring into her perfect little face, and then around the room in general. It hadn't changed much since it had been her nursery, except for the added toys and Disney Princess posters that lined the walls. Emma liked fairytales, which wasn't surprising of course. She especially loved Beauty and the Beast, which was fine by me since this world's versions of Snow White were so embarrassingly inaccurate.

With the princesses however, also came Transformers and Thundercats...her taste in cartoons tended to branch out from regular "girl" cartoons.

For possibly the millionth time since she was born, I fretted over telling her the truth about her heritage. I had come to the decision, with August's inclusion on the matter, that we wouldn't say anything to her about our world until she was old enough to understand, and keep it a secret from the rest of this cynical world. But it hurt me to keep it from her. I longed to share with her all the amazing stories of our land and people. The worst part of this decision was that I was forced to keep information about her father to a minimum, so that when people inevitably asked her where her daddy was, she wouldn't have much of an answer. I told her daily that he loved her, and missed her, but that was it. Now that she was in school, hearing other children talk about their fathers, she craved to know more about him, and I knew that curiosity would only grow.

In all honesty, though, I dreaded ever telling her. To tell her of our land, of the curse, I would have to tell her about her part in it. And I just couldn't burden my baby with that. I didn't know if I ever could. Yet I knew the day would come, and I would have to prepare our savior – my baby – for the final battle.

* * *

**So, we've jumped in time! Hope you guys liked it. Thanks for reading!**


	6. Tree Nymph

**So! My internet has been...awful, so that's why I haven't been able to update! So sorry! But thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing. A couple of reviewers have panicked a little bit over Jim, so I guess I'll set your minds at ease and let you know that I would NEVER have Snow fall in love with anyone other than David! But come on, a woman as gorgeous as she, being single for 28 years, men are BOUND to chase after her!**

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

Sewing. Every princess ever born is taught the art of needlepoint by the time she can hold a needle, and I was no exception. It was mindless enough work, but I never liked it. It held no purpose for me, stitching silly designs onto pillows. If any of my actual clothes became damaged, it was normally just replaced. However the skill came in handy after my banishment when I had to make my own crude clothing.

It came in handy once again, because between a rambunctious boy and an even more rambunctious little girl, it was as if their clothes couldn't stay whole for more than a day.

"I should just put them in leather and furs," I mumbled to myself as I sat on the couch in the living room, patching up the knee of August's jeans for the third time.

"May-May, look at this," Fred said, chuckling.

I looked up at the TV, only then hearing what he was watching. A happy tune was the back-drop of a story being told with storybook-like illustrations. My jaw lowered a little closer to the floor with each passing second as the narrator told the story of how after Snow White was awoken from the sleeping curse with True Love's kiss, her stepmother was so angry she cursed them all to sleep, including herself, and they didn't awaken until they were in modern times. And that was when the sitcom, "The Charmings" started, with Snow and "Eric" Charming moving into a house in the suburbs with a dwarf, the Evil Queen, her magic mirror, and their two sons.

Sure, there were glaring differences, but it was close enough to truth that it shocked me. Shocked and amused, because this was the most hilarious version of my step-mother I'd ever seen.

"Mom?"

I twisted around to find August leaning in from the back door, dirt covering his face, hands, bare feet and clothes. I groaned inwardly at the rip in his jeans.

I glanced out the window, realizing with a jolt that I'd lost track of time watching the silly show. "Auggie! It's almost dark! You know you're supposed to be inside before the street lamps come on!"

"I _know_, Mom," he huffed. "Tell _Emma _that!"

I stood up and rushed over to him, dropping my sewing. "Where is she?"

He sighed, shuffling from one foot to other in the way he always did when he didn't like what he was about to tell me. "I tried to get her to come down, Mom, but she wouldn't listen!"

I put my hands on my hips. "Come down from _where _August?"

* * *

August led me by the hand a little ways down the dirt road leading away from the house. "August, you aren't supposed to take Emma out this far!"

"I'm sorry," he said. "We were exploring, and you know how she is!"

"I know," I muttered. When it came to exploring the outside world, Emma curiosity was insatiable. I knew I couldn't fully blame August; she had a mind of her own.

We verged off the road and into the woods, along a well-worn footpath. My gut twisted in on itself the father into the forest we got, and I wished I'd thought to bring a flashlight as it was getting darker by the moment. I knew in my heart that Emma was fine. August would have been frantic if she'd been truly in danger, and I felt like I would _feel _it anyway, but I still worried. I always worried. I had learned already that worry was just part of being a mother.

At last we entered a clearing that held a beautiful, enormous tree with multitudes of spiraling braches twisting around one another.

At the base of the tree stood little Henry Huggins, from Emma's class, along with his older brother Howie, who was two years older than August. Howie and August didn't often play together, Howie more concerned with baseball than anything else, but Henry and Emma were all but inseparable. I only felt lucky that their parents were good natured enough to let Henry play with Emma, since she was continuously getting the poor boy into trouble.

I followed the boys' gazes up the branches of the tree to see Emma, perched high above. "Emma Swan!" I shouted. "What in all the realms are you _doing_ up there?" how did a nearly six-year-old _climb _that high?

"You should see it, Mommy!" she shouted back. "You can see the whole _world _from up here!"

"Emma, come down! You're too high up! Besides, it's past time to be inside!"

"But I don't want to!" she protested. I could barely see her face, but I knew that it was scrunched up the way mine did when I was irritated. "I want to live in the tree!"

"You can't live in a tree!" Howie yelled.

"Can too! Tree nymphs live in trees!"

I sighed. Just that morning I'd read the class a story about a tree nymph, wishing I could tell them what one _really_ looked like. "You're not a tree nymph, Emma, you're a little girl. A little girl who needs to come home."

"Emma!" Henry piped up, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. "If you come down, I'll let you have my pudding at lunch tomorrow!"

With a flash of golden hair, I could see Emma peering down, considering the rather substantial offer. "No!"

"Okay, okay, you can have my pudding for the next _week_!"

More consideration. "No…"

I shook my head. While I admired my daughter's spirit, I was running out of patience. "Emma. Swan. This is your last chance. You get down that tree _this instant_!"

I heard her whine softly then let out a reluctant, "Oh, okay…"

I watched, heart in throat, as she began to carefully descend. She made it down one branch before her foot slipped. I shrieked in utter terror as my baby grabbed hold of the branch before she could fall, holding on with both arms, pressing her cheek against the bark.

"Mommy!" she cried.

"Hang on, Emma!" I called, hoisting myself up onto the lowest branch.

Climbing trees was second nature to me. Growing up, if I was let loose into the garden, I would find a tree to climb. Trees like the one I was currently scaling were like heaven to me, as I'm sure they were to Emma. And unlike most princesses, circumstances saw to it that I never lost the skill, and even after many years, I hopped from branch to branch as easily as ever. I guess it's like riding a bike.

Within minutes I was perches beside Emma, easing her death-grip from the tree and letting her clutch onto me instead. "Hey there," I whispered. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, and I could feel her little heart beating a mile a minute. "I almost fell!"

"I know, I saw, this is why you have to be careful, Emma."

"I'm sorry, Mommy," she whimpered. "I won't climb trees no more."

I chuckled, feeling my own heart rate slow as I held my girl safely in my arms. "That's not true and you know it. You'll still climb trees. You'll climb every tree you ever see, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Just maybe not so high next time?"

She grinned up at me. "Kay. But look! Can't you see the whole world?"

I looked out, and I had to admit, it was quite a view. "I can. I think I can see other worlds from up here too."

"Other worlds?"

"Of course! Like the ones where tree nymphs live."

Emma smiled at that, and we sat for a long moment, just watching the sun set. Eventually I positioned her so that I could carry her on my back. "Now don't you dare let go, hear? You hang on to me, Emma Swan."

I felt her nod against my neck, and I carefully scaled down the tree, taking infinitely more care that when I went up. It wasn't long before we were safely back on the ground, and the boys were applauding us.

"Wow, Miss Swan," Howie said, admiration obvious in his voice. "I didn't know you could climb trees like that."

"I didn't know _any _grown-up could climb trees like that," Henry added.

"I'm not just any grown-up," I countered, setting Emma down and ruffling Henry's hair. "Now you two go home. Your mother's going to be worried sick.

The brothers darted off with a, "yes ma'am!"

"You owe me a pudding cup, Henry!" Emma shouted after them.

Henry spun around, trotting a few steps backward. "Nu-uh! You didn't come down on your own!"

Emma huffed and crossed her arms. "Aw, man…"

I smiled down at my girl and took her dirty little hand in one hand, and Auggie's in the other. "Come on, my little tree nymph. I suppose it's a supper of bugs and leaves for you tonight."

"Can't I be a little girl now and have macaroni and cheese?"

I pretended to consider. "Oh, all right. I think I like you better as a girl than a nymph anyway."

"Mommy?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you climb trees like that again with me tomorrow?"

I grinned. "I'd love to. Maybe with me, we can climb even higher."

* * *

"A tree nymph, huh?" Jim said, laughing.

We'd bumped into each other at the café on campus and were walking to class together. I tried to decline his buying my coffee for me as politely as possible, but he'd gentlemanly insisted.

"I swear I don't know what to do with that child. I think I got my first grey hair the second I thought she was falling."

"Wouldn't blame ya," he said, leaning over my head. "But you look good, no grey just yet!"

"I'm surprised," I mumbled.

"See this?" he pointed to the silver that was trailing up the sides of his hair. "It started down here when Max was about Emma's age, and he day he learned how to ride a bike without training wheels he decided to try to jump a ramp the neighbor boys set up!"

I shuddered. "Oh I hope neither of them decides to try that!"

I had found that I honestly and thoroughly enjoyed talking with Jim. My guilt had gradually edged away when after one failed attempt at courting me, he simply became my friend. I felt no more for him than I felt for Grumpy, though in the back of my mind I knew he possibly felt more for me. He was the only one I felt completely comfortable with though outside my family, so I ignored those niggling doubts.

There'd been one moment of panic when he'd paid for my lunch one afternoon and I saw the name on his credit card.

"_James_?" I'd asked, incredulous.

He had chuckled, then trailed off, assumedly telling by the look on my face I genuinely didn't know. He was growing used to me not knowing things. "Jim is a nickname. Never liked the name James."

Okay, sure, Charming's name wasn't _really _James…but he'd _been _James to me for the first several months of us knowing one another, so it was still a bit of a jolt. Over time though I forgot about it, and Jim was simply Jim.

"So," Jim said, bringing me back to the present. "What do you think?"

"About what?" I asked sheepishly, realizing I hadn't heard what he'd said.

He chuckled and good-naturedly shook his head. "Always off in another world. I was asking you about this Halloween party one of my coworkers is throwing, and was wondering if you'll be my date."

I tensed automatically at the word. "Date?"

"Just as friends," he said quickly. When I'd told him that I had no interest in 'dating' after the first time he asked me out, he'd taken it well, seeming to understand. "It's usually a really good party, with a homemade haunted house, costume contest and everything."

"Oh….well…I usually take my kids trick-or-treating."

"We could go after," he reasoned.

"Would it be okay? I'm still your student."

He shrugged. "Like I said, it's only as friends. And rules for fraternizing are pretty lax with the night students here anyway. Come on, it'll be fun!"

Though the thought of going to a party on any man's arm other than my husband's – no matter how platonically – was disconcerting at best, it _did _sound like fun, and I'd never had a chance to actually dress up in costume for the strange holiday. "Okay."

"Great! Do you have a costume yet?"

"No, I'll have to find one, what are you going to be?"

"I don't have one yet either. You should go as Snow White."

"E…excuse me?" I winced at the squeak my mouth produced.

He grinned. "I always used to say that you look like Snow White. I could be the prince!"

I felt myself paling.

He must have noticed my reaction, because he sobered. "Or…I could be a dwarf?"

When I still didn't answer, he sighed and tried again. "How about Luke and Lea?"

Finally I nodded. "Okay. But I get to be Luke."


	7. Becoming a Woman

**Hey guys! So I have fixed some problems I had with this fic, so updates should be coming at a more regular pace! Thanks for your patience! And thank you to everyone who reviewed!**

* * *

My eyes flew open.

I was breathing heavily, but the room was still dark. It was the same nightmare – I was in that burning room and I couldn't escape. Every time I thought the room was behind me, that I had overcome it at last, it would return, and I would wake like I did then, sweating and shivering.

But I calmed instantly when a candle flickered to life, and a pair of warm, strong arms encircled me.

"Shh…I'm here," a soft, rumbling voice spoke.

I wiggled, trying to turn around in his grasp, and finally managed, coming nose to nose with my new husband.

"Charming," I whispered.

He answered me by pressing his full lips to mine, and I melted under the contact. I brought my hands up, one to run over the bits of his exposed chest where it wasn't pressed up to me, and the other to tangle my fingers into his hair.

Charming moaned his approval into my mouth, and deepened the kiss, tilting his head to gain better access. His tongue swept over my lips, and I parted them eagerly, gasping in pleasure as he sucked on my bottom lip. He stroked my hair, tugging on its length, and brought his other hand down between us to cup one of my breasts.

This was what I loved the most. Just laying with him like this, slowly and lazily making love. Not that the hard, passionate, desperate times weren't equally as wonderful. His large, work-roughened hands left trails of fire wherever they went; fire the far out-burned the flames in my nightmares.

Though the candle was a sweet, thoughtful gesture from him to help alleviate the fear that always came with my nightmares, it was his hands, lips, and body that banished any thought other than my love for him. My shepherd. My prince. My Charming.

He rolled me so that I was underneath him, and there was nowhere in the world that I felt safer. I was wearing only a thin nightgown, which was promptly and easily discarded. He wore nothing to bed, ever, to my not-so-secret delight, so we were quickly skin to skin.

It felt a little naughty, since only a handful of people knew that we were already married, but we didn't care what anyone thought. It really wouldn't have mattered to me if we weren't married yet at all, because I loved him with all my heart and soul.

Once he was inside me, I dug my fingers into his back, knowing that I was causing little marks there, also knowing that he didn't mind a bit. If anything, he liked the small scratches, the way I secretly liked the love bites he left on various hidden places of my body.

"I love you," I whispered, feeling like I couldn't say it enough.

"Snow…" he whispered back, and only he could insert so much love and devotion into one utterance of my name. "Snow…Snow…"

"Snow…"

"Mom!"

* * *

"Mama! Wake up already!"

I opened my eyes, wincing in the bright light that suddenly illuminated my room. I could still feel Charming's lips, his breath on my face, and I buried my face into my pillow, wishing for it back.

"Mama! Mommy! Will you get up?"

I groaned and rolled over, squinting at the clock on my bedside. "Emma, honey, it's barely six! I don't need to be up for another half hour! Can't it wait?"

"Mama," she whined. "It's important."

The tone in her voice finally got my attention, and I sat up, trying to rub the sleep from my eyes and shake the last remnants of my dream off. "What is it, baby?"

"I started…" she pouted, her face red.

"Started? Started what?"

If possible, her face grew even redder. This was uncharacteristic for the unflappable Emma. She mumbled something I didn't quite catch.

"What did you say?"

"I said my period! I started my period, okay?!"

I gasped, all sleepiness finally driven away. "You did?! Oh, sweetheart!"

I reached out, pulling my eleven-year-old daughter into a tight hug. "I can't believe it!"

She allowed me to squeeze her for a moment before squirming away. "Me neither. It sucks."

"It doesn't suck, Emma! You're growing up! This is a big day!" I held her by her shoulders, on the brink of tears. Could my baby already be turning into a woman? "Do you have any questions? Do you need anything?"

She shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. "I found some pads in your bathroom. But I feel crappy. My stomach hurts."

"That's nothing to worry about, it's normal…unfortunately. Why don't you just go change back into your pajamas? You'll be more comfortable."

Her eyes widened. "What about school?"

"You don't have to go, not today if you don't want."

Emma grinned and bounced on the bed, before giving me another hug. "Really? Thanks, Mom."

"Don't get used it, you can't miss school every month, but today is special. But if you ever feel _particularly_ bad, you can just tell me, okay? Look, I _do _have to go to school, but when I get home why don't we do something special, hm? Just you and me? We could go out to eat, maybe do a little shopping…"

"Seriously? Mom, you don't have to do that, it's not _that _big of a deal."

I smiled at her, getting out of bed to throw on some clothes. "It's a big deal to you, which makes it a big deal to me. Besides, since when do I need a good reason to spoil my little girl, huh? And kiddo, you'll _always_ be my little girl."

Emma was smiling from ear to ear, though from the tired look on her face I could tell she really didn't feel very good. "I remember when I started," I told her. "I didn't have a mother, only a lousy step-mother, and I didn't know what the heck was happening! I was terrified! I ran to my governess, crying my eyes out, and she explained everything to me, though she wasn't very sensitive about it, and I think I left her more terrified than before. I insisted that if _that_ was what it meant to be a woman, I wanted no part it!" I giggled. "Not that we get much of a choice in the matter!"

"I didn't know you had a governess," Emma said, intensively listening to the story from my childhood, since they were far and few between. "That's like a nanny, right?"

I cleared my throat and nodded. "Well, yes. Like I said, my step-mother wasn't very…motherly. And my father was a very busy man."

Emma looked sad. "Sounds kinda lonely."

"It was…it was lonely sometimes," I smiled at her. "But I don't have to be lonely now, I have you, Auggie, Fred and Elsa."

Emma bit her lower lip, a gesture I recognized well, since I did it often. "Do you still miss my father?"

I shouldn't have been surprised that she'd bring that up. She usually did whenever she could, digging for all the information on him that she could. So far, all she knew was that her daddy loved her, but because of reasons outside of anyone's control he couldn't be with us now.

I nodded. "Yes, of course I do. I always will."

"Maybe it would help if you…you know…had someone else?"

"Emma…" I warned. "Don't start that again."

"Come on, Mom! What's wrong with it? My father is gone. You say he's not dead, but he sure as hell isn't here!"

"Emma! Language!"

She ducked her head. "Sorry. It's just that even though you say you're not lonely, you act like it sometimes. And Jim is _great_ guy…and he's _crazy_ about you! And I know you like him…"

"Emma, we are not having this conversation!" I snapped, trying to keep my voice calm. I sighed. "Jim is a very nice man, he's my friend, and I know that you're fond of him, but I just…" normally I brushed her off when she asked me about Jim, who had become over the years a sort of uncle to the kids, but today Emma was a woman and at the very least I could be honest about this. "I don't _love_ him, Emma."

Emma's shoulders slumped, but she nodded in acceptance, and I marveled at how maturely she was taking it. "I just wish you wouldn't keep pining over him. He's never coming back."

"You don't know that," I whispered. "You don't understand."

"Then make me understand! Tell me why he left!"

"_He _didn't leave, Emma! I did!"

Emma's eyes went wide. "_You_ left _him_? But why? Why, if you left him do you still want him?"

I froze, half-in my blouse I was putting on. What could I say? I hadn't been expecting such an adult question from her. But then, she was very well-read and mature for her age.

I had rehearsed in my mind at least a thousand times what I would say to her when the day came to tell the truth. But I was paralyzed. "There were things I had to get away from," I said hesitantly. "Your father wanted to come…but he couldn't. I was pregnant with you at the time. I took Auggie and I ran."

"What about Auggie's parents?"

My mouth dropped, and I sputtered. "W…what? What do you mean Auggie's parents?!"

Emma gave that little smirk that was so her. "Uh…I know that he isn't my real brother."

"How?!"

"He told me. Mom, come on, you've told me every day of my life how much my," she used air quotes. "Daddy loves me, but you've never told him that. When I was little I thought that was sad, so I asked him about it. He told me that his real dad sent him away with you, and that you became his mother. He said he didn't even think he was legally adopted, but that he didn't mind because he loves you."

"He did?" I sat hard on the edge of the bed. "What else did he say?"

"Nothing, he said anything else had to come from you."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"It's okay, it doesn't change the fact that he's my brother."

I kissed her temple. "Emma, someday I'm going to tell you everything, but today I have a classroom full of fourth graders to tackle, and I need to get ready."

Emma rolled her eyes and smiled. "Kay, Mom."

"I love you, baby."

"Love you, too."

* * *

When I finally made it to the kitchen, Elsa was already setting out breakfast. "Mmm, that smells so good," I exclaimed taking a seat.

"Where's Em?" August asked, munching on a biscuit.

"She hasn't come down yet? Oh well, she's probably on her way. Do you have class today?"

"My morning Lit class got canceled, but I have Creative Writing at one."

"Lit got canceled?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. "Why, where's Jim?"

August smirked at me. "Worried, Mom?"

I rolled my eyes. "He's my friend, so yes."

He chuckled. "He didn't give a reason."

"Maybe you should call him and see if he's feeling okay," Elsa suggested to me.

"I'm not going to call him! I'm not his keeper!"

"There she is!" Fred exclaimed as Emma trotted down the stairs and I shot him a grateful look for the change in subject.

"Emma Swan, why aren't you dressed?" Elsa asked.

"Mama said I could stay home today."

Elsa put her hand on Emma's forehead. "You're not warm. Feeling okay?"

I raised my eyebrows at Elsa meaningfully. "She's just feeling a little off, _for the first time today_."

Elsa's hand flew to her chest. "My darling girl, are you a woman today?!"

"GRANMA!" Emma shrieked, burying her face in her hands.

Fred and August chuckled. "Aww, Em," August said. "My baby sister's growing up!"

"Mom!" she screamed.

"August, stop it," I ordered. "Both of you, quit laughing! Emma, sweetie there's nothing to be embarrassed about."

But Emma's cheeks were burning red and she hunched over in her chair.

"Sorry, Em," August said. "Seriously, don't be embarrassed, we shouldn't have laughed."

"That's right little girl," Fred said. "Let's just eat and forget it, okay?"

Though she still pouted, she didn't race to her room, which was an accomplishment.

"Great," August muttered. "Now we have to contend with a crabby Mom _and _a crabby pre-teen every month."

If looks could kill I'm sure the ones every female in that room were giving my son would have vaporized him on the spot. August hopped up and fled the table when came a quiet tap on the door. "Emma, Henry's here!"

Little Henry Huggins from next door, (next door this far into the country being a ten minute walk away,) had been in Emma's class every year of Elementary school, and even once he wasn't any more in middle school, the two remained best friends. He was an awkward, timid little boy, who obeyed Emma's every command. In return, however, Emma was fiercely protective of him, and her tough, commanding demeanor in school assured he never worried about bullies.

It led to more than one fight in school, which usually resulted in multiple boys crying in the nurse's office with bloody noses. And though the teachers and guidance counselors insisted I punish such behavior, I had never managed to get angry at my child for fighting in defense of one she cared about. It was in her blood, after all.

"I'm not going to school today Henry," I heard her say at the door with barely concealed annoyance. "No, I'm not sick! I'm just not going, and no I don't wanna play later! Come back in five to seven days!"

She marched away, growling in frustration, leaving the little boy looking confused. "Don't worry," I said from the table, trying to hide a giggle. "Five to seven days, Henry, and she'll be fine."

Henry shrugged and adjusted his backpack. "I have four big sisters," he reminded me. "This isn't new to me."

* * *

"Damn, Em is going to be twelve in a month," August said as he drove me to work, needing the car later to get to school.

"Tell me about it," I muttered. "She's growing up so fast," I looked at August affectionately. "So are you."

He gave me a half smile, but kept his eyes on the road, since I would have yelled at him if he didn't.

"It hit me today, just how grown up she's becoming," I sighed. "She asked again today about her father."

"We're going to have to tell her, Mom," he said. "The longer we wait, the harder it will be."

"I know! I know! It's already going to be so hard. If you were her, would you accept the truth easily?"

He scoffed. "You kidding me? I'd laugh. Sometimes I don't even…" he trailed off.

"Sometimes what, Auggie?"

"Sometimes…sometimes I wonder if it was even real to begin with. Sometimes I have to stare at my stupid little hat forever and force myself it believe it ever happened. The older I get, the harder it gets."

I opened my mouth to ask him how he could ever possibly think that, but caught myself and thought a moment. "I know what you mean," I said at last. "Sometimes it feels like a memory from a dream, doesn't it?" he nodded. "Elsa never believed any of the things I told her in the beginning. She thought I was just traumatized. And I have to admit, I've wondered sometimes if she was right," I thought about all the things I'd heard about in the news or on TV and shuddered. People who were kidnapped, help captive for years, tortured. Before ever believing that I was a princess from an Enchanted Forest, people wouldn't hesitate to believe that I was creating memories to forget something horrible.

"But we couldn't have _both_ imagined it, right?"

"Of course not! It was real, August…" I continued in a whisper. "Pinocchio."

August flinched and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. It was the first time I had spoken his real name in almost twelve years. Finally, he nodded. "We have to do it…" he chuckled. "…_Your Highness_. We have to tell her."

I laughed at the title, finding what once was the norm to sound wildly ridiculous. "I know. And we will. In time."

"Mom…" he said, his voice taking on a reproachful tone.

"Her life will never be the same once we tell her! She's going through a very emotional time right now, a time full of change! Add all of that?" I made a wide gesture with both my hands, unconsciously mimicking Rumplestiltskin. "That she's the only hope of an entire kingdom? It'll be too much!"

"Okay," he said. "Maybe you're right. But she's just going to keep asking, keep wondering."

I gave him a sideways look. "And do you think she'll ever guess the truth?"

He burst out laughing. "I think she'd guess that her father was abducted by aliens first!"

* * *

I looked at my pager while the kids were at lunch. It was an odd, boxy thing that Auggie had insisted I needed. At first I scowled at the beeping thing, but I liked having a way for the kids to contact me in case of emergencies. Jim had paged me during class.

I went into my office and called him back, worry gnawing at me that perhaps something was wrong.

"May May!" he exclaimed after I told him it was me, startling me a little. "I'm so glad you called! Guess what?!"

"What?" I asked, his excitement becoming infectious.

"I'm a grandfather! Max's wife, Sarah had her baby!"

"Oh, Jim! That's wonderful! I didn't realize she was that close!"

"Yep! It's a girl! A beautiful, seven pound, eight ounce little girl! I have a granddaughter!"

"That's so exciting! A granddaughter! Jim, I'm so happy for you!"

"I can't get over it. Can I pick you up for dinner? You have to see these pictures!"

"Jim, I'd love to, but I promised Emma we'd have girl day after I got off work. Tomorrow?"

"It's a date, see you tomorrow!"

He hung up before I could correct him on the date part, so I shrugged and placed the phone back on the cradle.

* * *

"What did he look like?" Emma asked while we sat at the diner, eating ice cream.

"Who?"

"My father, duh!"

"Don't "duh" me. He looked…actually you look a lot like him."

She grinned. "I figured I must have gotten my blonde hair from him. So he was handsome?

"Handsome? Oh, he was handsome alright. Those big blue eyes, his…charming smile."

She smirked. "Aw, you're not gonna tell me it was love at first sight, are you?"

I threw back my head and laughed. "Not exactly. At first sight, I hit him in the face with a rock."

She gasped. "You _what_?! No way!"

"Way. I thought he was just a spoiled little rich boy, and he thought I was a…" I was going to say common thief, but realized that would open up a whole new line of questions I wasn't sure I was ready for. "A pesky young girl. He was engaged to marry this nag with a bad attitude. But we got to know one another and we just…fell in love."

"That's way better than love at first sight," Emma said. "Those fairytales are full of it."

"Not _full_ of it," I said. "I think they just glaze over certain things."

"You say that like they're real."

I hesitated. Was now the time? "You don't believe in fairytales?" I hoped she didn't notice the squeak in my voice.

She took a bite of her ice cream and scrunched up her nose. "Of course not, that's like believing in Santa Clause. They're just stories people tell to scare kids."

I wanted to say that fairytales weren't scary, but…yeah, they pretty much are. "Well, Santa Clause is silly, but fairytales…I mean…where do you think those stories come from? They had to have started somewhere, so wouldn't it make sense if they started with truth?"

"Maybe, but things like Fairy Godmothers and True Love's Kiss? Those things don't exist. They never did. To think otherwise is just crazy."

I turned my focus to my coffee ice cream, trying not to let Emma see how much her words hurt me. Part of me knew that Emma was trying to assert her newfound "adulthood" by insisting that she could never believe those stories, but I was also forced to admit to myself that Emma was a natural skeptic. She always had been, I just refused to accept it.

For the first time I wondered if I had made a horrible mistake in not telling her from the beginning.

"Speaking of fairytales," she said. "I forgot to tell you. Henry called me today after school. The callback list for the play was posted. I got a part!"

"That's awesome!" I sat up straighter. I'd so been hoping that Emma would get a good part in this one. "You're doing Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, right? Did you get Snow?"

"Better!" Emma wiggled excitedly. "I'm gonna be the Evil Queen!"

Emma had to jump out of her chair to come around and pat my back while I choked on my ice cream.


	8. Only Human

**Okay, so this might not be some of my reviewers' favorite chapter...but I stand by my decisions! Just promise me you'll hold off on the torches and pitchforks until the end of the chapter! Kay? Thanks. :) **

**From here on out the story starts to take some more dramatic turns, so hang on tight, and thanks for reading!**

* * *

"Aww," I cooed, holding a picture of a tiny newborn with a tuft of black hair. "She's gorgeous!"

"Isn't she?" Jim said from across the table at a cozy little Italian restaurant we both favored, beaming and taking the picture back. "Her mom and dad are over the moon and I'm am completely in love."

"That little girl is going to have you wrapped around her finger, isn't she?"

"You know it. Luckily I've had practice following demanding little girls around. Remember that year I took Emma and August trick-or-treating for you because you and Fred both had the flu?"

I giggled. "Oh I remember. Auggie told me how she convinced you to let her take her Tinker Bell wings off and carry his sword and shield around to be a warrior elf and hit all the houses a second time!"

"She was convincing!" he defended. "It's impossible to say no to that girl! She just gives you this look with one hand on her hip…actually she's looks just like you when she does that!"

"I taught her well, then," I said with a smirk, taking a sip of my martini. Martinis. One of my favorite inventions of this world. That and Italian food. "So, Grampa, how's Auggie doing in Lit?"

Jim smiled that flirtatious smile at me that both unnerved and amused me. "Not as good a student as you were."

I gave him a "watch it" look. "Seriously."

"Great, he's making all A's, as you know. He's a really smart kid. He showed me some of the book he's writing."

"Book? What book?"

He raised his eyebrows. "You don't know? It's really pretty extraordinary, actually. He's taken all these old fairytales and stories, and re-vamped them. Made them more interesting. I'm surprised he didn't tell you."

"So am I," I frowned. I knew that August liked to write, so why wouldn't he tell me about his book? "I sure would like to read it."

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll show it to you when he's ready. He sure is imaginative."

I smiled. "Yeah, that's Auggie."

We sat a while more in comfortable silence, eating our dinners. I really enjoyed spending time with Jim, but no matter what it still always came with a pinch of guilt. I tried to reason with myself that there was nothing wrong with having a male friend. Seven of my best friends in the world are men, and Charming became very close with Red over the years, a fact that I was happy with. And yet even though Jim didn't pester me to start a relationship with him much anymore, I knew he was in love with me. Why else would he have remained single over the past eight years he'd known me? Granted there weren't a whole lot of single people to choose from in our small town, but still.

Every great now and then he would hint at something more. An offhand comment about how compatible we were, a quip that he 'wouldn't mind a roommate,' or the most heartbreaking being the time he told me how much he loved my children.

The hardest part of all was that we _were_ compatible. We shared so many interests, could talk for hours and never get bored of one another. And he was handsome, I couldn't deny that. On paper we were perhaps more suited for one another than me and Charming, but the bottom line was that I was desperately in love with Charming, not Jim.

But for all of Jim's hints he wasn't pushy. He never tried to touch me in any way that a brother wouldn't, and when I reminded him that I didn't want a relationship, he accepted it gracefully.

And every time my conscience told me to stop spending time with him, he'd come by with candy for the kids and then say something to make me laugh and I couldn't help myself. It didn't help that Elsa, Fred and the kids all encouraged a relationship fervently.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Jim said, breaking me out of my daydream.

I chuckled. "Funny, that phrase was common back home," only we said it with a copper instead of a penny.

"Common most places, I think, though it's getting pretty outdated. You know, May May, we've known each other forever and I don't think you've ever told me where it is you're actually from!"

"The Enchanted Forest," I said, deadpan, with a flutter of my eyelashes.

He nodded with an exaggerated thoughtful expression. "I see. Why am I not surprised?"

I threw a piece of my breadstick at him.

* * *

"You didn't have to walk me to the door," I told Jim at the end of the night. Though I had driven to meet him, he had insisted on driving me home after my third martini.

"Well, you had quite a few drinks, I just wanted to make sure you made it okay."

I giggled, quite a bit more than necessary. "I'm not drunk, you're just blurry."

"Oh right, sorry, not drunk," he stepped closer. "There, am I less blurry?"

"Little bit," I said, still giggling like an idiot. "Thanks for dinner, by the way."

"Thank you for actually letting me pay for a change!"

"Well, I was in a giving mood."

"I'm in awe of your generosity," he said, eyes twinkling. So…I'll see you later?"

"You usually do. Goodnight Jim."

Suddenly, Jim was leaning in closer, closer than I'd ever allowed him before. My mind was screaming at me to step back, to push him away, but my limbs wouldn't move. Regardless of what I told everyone and myself, I was lonely. So very lonely for the affection of a man who cared about me.

When he put his hands on either side of my face, I sighed, thinking how soft his hands were for a man. None of the callouses that came from hard labor like farm work…or sword fighting.

And then his lips were on mine. My head was still screaming, yelling at me that this was wrong. But my body wouldn't listen. Instead it did the opposite, it leaned into him. It allowed him to deepen the kiss, to admit his tongue past my lips. It threaded my fingers into his hair.

It felt so good.

His mouth left mine, and he started trailing kisses across my jaw and down my neck. I shivered involuntarily, pulling him closer, pressing my body against his, silently begging for more. His hands trailed down my sides to land on my hips, pulling me even closer.

"I love you, Mary Margaret."

And just like that I came spiraling back to Earth. Mary Margaret. It wasn't my name. My name was Snow White. The man who loved me would call me _Snow White_!

"No…" I whimpered, pushing him away at last. "Stop."

Jim pulled away, and my heart lurched in pain at the sight of his kiss-swollen lips and the hurt in his eyes. "What's wrong? I thought this was okay."

"It was…I mean…I'm sorry, Jim, I can't. I just can't do this."

"_Why_ Mary Margaret? I know you care about me. You wouldn't have been my best friend all these years if you didn't. And you sure as hell wouldn't have kissed me back like that if you didn't feel something."

I swiped frantically at some rebel tears. "I know, Jim, I'm sorry. I do care about you. I _do_. And it's been so long since I…"

He smiled crookedly, a certain desperation in his eyes. "So, what? You want just a physical relationship? Friends with benefits type thing? I think can live with that for now."

"No! Jim, please, I don't want that. I can't be with you the way you want. Ever. I'm so sorry."

"Because of him?" he asked, pointing at my ring that I was twisting as we spoke. "The husband that left you? May May, it's been twelve years."

I sighed. Never had I felt so defeated. "I know. I know you think I'm crazy. Everyone does. But I can't help it. I can't love you, Jim. I'm so very sorry."

"Can't love me? That's not that same thing as "don't" love me."

I smiled sadly. "Because I do love you. Just not the way you need me to. You deserve a woman who will give you her whole heart. I can't give you mine, because it's already with someone else."

Jim nodded, and my heart broke at the miserable set of his shoulders. "Okay, I understand."

And then he left, without another word.

* * *

Grateful that everyone had already gone to bed, I rushed into the house, trying to fight back tears. I trudged up the stairs, a headache beginning to pound behind my eyes now that I had sobered up.

When I got to my room, I jumped in surprise, letting out a little squeak to find my children in there waiting for me. Emma was beaming while August was scowling.

"What…what are you two doing? Why aren't you in bed?"

"We were spying," Emma said shamelessly.

"Emma and August Swan! How could you?" I tried to sound authoritive, but I think it just came out pouty.

Emma didn't even bother to try and look sheepish, just jumped off my bed to throw her arms around me. I must not have looked as miserable as I felt.

"We saw you kiss Jim. This is awesome, Mom!"

"No…Em…" I looked up at August, who was just standing there with his arms crossed. "It wasn't like that."

"What do you mean?" Emma said. "It looked like it to me! Does this mean you guys are together now? Like for real?"

"No, Emma," the last thing I wanted was to have this conversation, all I wanted was to curl up in bed and forget. "I told him it wasn't going to work out."

Emma's face fell. "But why? Jim is great, Mom, and he loves all of us."

"I can't talk about this now," I said, throwing up my hands. "You both need to go to bed. Now."

"But Mom…"

"NOW Emma!"

Emma's eyes widened in surprise; I hardly ever raised my voice, but only grunted in frustration and stomped out of the room, slamming the door to her own room for good effect. August remained behind.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, both for yelling at Emma and for what they'd seen. "I know what you must think…"

August held up his hands to stop me. "Look, I was mad there for a minute, but you know what? If you love Jim…Mom, maybe you should just be with him. David wouldn't have wanted you to live your life alone this way. Surely he'd want you to be happy."

"We promised we'd wait for each other!" I choked out a sob. "I took a vow that I'd love him forever, and I do, Auggie! I love Charming, and I miss him _so_ much. With Jim…it was like for a second I let myself forget…everything. But then he called me Mary Margaret, and I felt like I was going to be sick. I have feelings for Jim, Auggie, as much as it hurts me, I do. But I _love_ Charming!" I felt awful for unloading on him, but there was literally no one else in the world who understood.

August wrapped me in a tight hug, and I cried into his shoulder, wondering when he'd gotten so tall. "I'm sorry, Mom," he murmured. "I'm sorry. I know this isn't fair. Sixteen more years, just sixteen more."

"What have I done, Auggie? I betrayed Charming! I...I'm..."

"Human," he interrupted me. "You're only human, Mom, with feelings and...I don't think even Charming could blame you for this."

I bunched handfuls of his shirt in my hands and sniffed. "I'm your Mom. I'm supposed to do the comforting."

"Yeah? Well I'm your son. And right now, I'm comforting you. Get over it."

I laughed. "Can I take any credit at all for what a good boy you are?"

"Quite a bit, I'd say. When this all comes to a head, do you think you could mention it to the Blue Fairy? I might make mistakes between now and then, and I'd like to hang on to my real boy status."

I tightened my grip on my son. "If Blue ever tries to turn you back into a puppet, she'll have to go through me!" I pulled back to look at him. "Your father would be so proud of the man you're becoming."

He nodded, looking down. "I hope so."

"So…you wanna tell me about this book you've been writing?"

August stepped back, crossing his arms. "How did you know?"

"I'm your mother. I know everything," I dead-panned.

He rolled his eyes and smiled. "Hold on," he slipped out of the room, and returned with a folder. "I wanted to surprise you."

I took the folder and opened it to find it full of loose pages with beautiful illustrations. The first one featured an amazingly and beautifully lifelike drawing of Charming kissing me awake when I went under the sleeping curse. The story, in flowing calligraphy, detailed our story far more accurately that any book or movie I'd ever seen here.

"I guess it's just as well," August said. "I could use your help with details anyway."

"Auggie! This is wonderful! This is…this my story!"

He grinned. "And mine, and Red's, and Princess Ella's, and all the other ones that I know that weren't told right here. Now you can fill in the blanks, help me with stories I don't know so well."

The tears that came this time were tears of pride and happiness. I caressed Charming's face, awed by August's ability to capture what he really looked like. "I had no idea how talented you are."

He shrugged bashfully. "Thanks. And you know, I thought that we could use this to teach Emma. I thought maybe letting her read it this way would make it easier to absorb."

"You're right, this is perfect! Um…can I hang on to this for tonight? So I can read it?"

He smiled knowingly and kissed my cheek. "Absolutely. Goodnight, Mom."

"Night, sweetie."

I sat down on my bed, still staring at Charming's image. I allowed the guilt and misery of what I'd done that night wash over me, warring with the utter need for my husband to be with me. Though August's words had indeed comforted me, it didn't erase the fact that I still felt Jim's lips on my own. That I had _enjoyed _it for a moment. "I'm so sorry, Charming. Forgive me."

* * *

Jim didn't call me again after that night, and I was too embarrassed and guilt-ridden to call him. But when we passed on the street, we would greet each other happily and exchange pleasantries, though with none of the ease and companionship as before. He'd tell me about his precious granddaughter, and I'd tell him about Emma's latest escapades and August's accomplishments after passing Jim's class. He even attended Emma's play, just as he promised, and gave her a bouquet of flowers.

(Emma was brilliant playing my step-mother, by the way.)

One day I bumped into him at the grocery store, and found to my surprise that he was with Emily, who had long since broken up with Rick after he'd cheated on her and moved away. Not long after that, they got engaged, and I was asked to be one of Emily's bridesmaids.

I was incredibly happy for them, but still felt the pang of losing a good friend. I missed just talking to him. He was the only real friend I had in that town outside of my own family.

I didn't tell Emma about the curse that year. Or the year after. Or the year after that. August declared suddenly one morning at the breakfast table that he wanted to travel, to see the world outside our town, so he took off alone, promising to finish his book while he was gone.

Emma cried the whole day he left. So did Elsa. So did I.

Missing August and lacking that particular lifeline, I clung to Emma a little more, not anxious for her to grow. She was my angel, sweet and caring and hilarious and followed me about like a shadow.

And then she turned sixteen.


	9. Sixteen

**Thank you guys SO MUCH for all the awesome reviews! And even if you didn't review, I feel your good vibes, lol ;) **

**Though you didn't hang me for the last chapter, you may very well for this one. I debated and debated about this part, but I made up my mind and decided it's how I needed the story to go. This was a tough one to write, though. That said, read on! Those 28 years are just flying by...**

* * *

I breezed through the front door one afternoon when I came home from work, flipping through the mail as I walked.

"Bill, bill, junk mail," I squinted at the writing on the front of one envelope, not quite able to make out who it was addressed to.

"Uh oh," Fred said, chuckling. "I think someone might need to borrow my glasses."

I mock glared at him. "There is nothing wrong with my eyes, sir, this writing is just really teeny."

Fred stood up from his chair, popping me lightly on the head with his newspaper as he passed. "Deny it all you want, gorgeous. I guess that isn't another gray hair either," he reached out and plucked a hair from my head to present it to me.

"Don't do that!" I shrieked, my free hand flying to my head. "Elsa says it makes two more grow in its place!"

He threw back his head, laughing. "That's an old wives tale, May May. Don't pay any attention. I think it's quite attractive, distinguished even."

I stuck my chin out at him and continued to flip through the mail. "Oh look! It's a letter from Auggie! From…Thailand? Did he say he was going to Thailand?"

Fred hummed, glancing at the crinkled and well-traveled envelope. "Mayhap he'll bring him home an exotic Oriental beauty."

I rolled my eyes. "I wouldn't mind if it just brought him home. Speaking of which, Dad, is Emma home yet?"

In the years since August had begun his adventures, Elsa and Fred were my heroes when it came to raising Emma. I don't know what it is about teen years that make children suddenly so sassy and disagreeable, but Emma, as sweet as she was, possessed her mother's temper and it seemed to flair more and more often the closer to sixteen she got. When her moods first started turning, I'd been distraught, but Elsa and Fred were always there with a listening ear or words of wisdom. It was lifesaving not being alone.

The few times over the years that I mentioned getting our own house and taking Emma to set out on our own, Elsa and Fred would tactically change subjects or ignore me altogether. So eventually I just stopped bringing it up. I didn't want to move, and neither did Emma, so we stayed. I knew that it bothered their children, but those people so rarely visited or even called it was like they didn't even exist. One night Elsa had told me that though it hurt her that her children didn't want to be around them, she had me, Emma and August and she felt blessed for that.

From that night on I started calling them Mom and Dad, and no one said a word about it.

"Nope, not yet," Fred said in answer to my question. "Then again I think I hear that truck pullin' up now."

I peeked out the window and sure enough, Henry's beat-up old Ford was pulling into the driveway, a cloud of dust in its wake. Henry had saved up for years and bought the pickup himself when he turned sixteen, and he couldn't have been prouder. Neither could Emma, who was more than thrilled to have a ride to school every day that didn't involve her mom or a bus.

I watched as Emma jumped out of the truck almost before it stopped, slamming the door with unnecessary force while Henry was rushing to her side, trying to catch her before she ran inside. Uh oh, someone was fighting.

Henry was the sweetest, most gentlemanly boy I'd met in all my years of teaching. He treated girls, _especially_ Emma with nothing but the upmost respect. I could tell that he'd been half in love with my daughter since he was old enough to tell the difference between boys and girls, but until very recently Emma had no interest whatsoever in the opposite sex. Alas, now that she was noticing boys, Henry didn't seem to be the one she noticed.

He was a late-bloomer, a little on the short side and all gangly arms and legs with a small face swamped by his glasses. I kept waiting for him to suddenly shoot up, to grow into his body and for Emma to realize he's actually a Prince Charming in disguise. I'm not afraid to admit I wanted nothing more than for Henry to be Emma's True Love and for them to grow up and get married…after they were _well_ and grown up, of course. But I stayed well out of it, knowing my daughter well enough to know that pushing Henry on her would do absolutely nothing. Not that it stopped Fred and Elsa's frequent playful hints.

And as devoted as Henry was to Emma, and as bossy as she was, Henry didn't let her string him along. When Emma wanted to do something impulsive, Henry talked her out of it. When Emma was angry and not a soul could get near her, Henry calmed her down. When she was upset, Henry cheered her up. Alternatively, Emma encouraged Henry in his dream to be a scientist. When he became discouraged for some reason or another, she was right there to boost him up. When he was too afraid to take a chance, Emma gave him courage. I don't think either of them ever realized that they brought out the best in each other.

Most of the time.

"I said _go away,_ Henry!" Emma screamed, charging through the front door.

"Emma, I said I was sorry!" Henry chased her inside, looking a little more angry than contrite like he was trying to sound, which was unusual. Henry _never_ got angry at Emma.

"You _humiliated _me, Henry!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"What's going on?" I asked, folding my arms.

Emma huffed and stomped a foot. "Henry embarrassed me in front of Jay Hightower! He was _going_ to ask me to the Spring Dance but I bet he won't anymore!"

"Why would you wanna go to the dance with him anyway?" Henry asked. "He's nothing but a muscle-brained meathead. All he was looking at while you guys were talking was your chest!"

Emma's eyes widened, (as did mine,) and she turned scarlet. "He _was not_! You're just jealous!"

Henry scoffed. "Jealous of _him_? I don't think so. Besides, I thought _we _were going to the dance!"

The last was said more softly, with a hint of hurt, enough that Emma's shoulder's sagged and her tone lost most of its temper. "We _always_ go to dances together, Henry. Like, every one, since 5th grade!"

"So? What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing's wrong…" she sighed. "I just…I wanted to go with someone else, like a real date this time!"

It was like someone let the air out of Henry, and I watched as he visibly deflated. "Know what? Fine! Go with Meathead, see if I care!"

This seemed to renew Emma's anger, and she clenched her fists. "Like he wants to go with me, now! And it's all your fault! I'd rather stay home than go with _you_!"

With that she stormed up the stairs, leaving both me and Henry speechless.

"Henry…" I began, but he held up a hand.

"Don't worry about it," he said, then blinked and hurried to correct himself, remembering who he was talking to. "I mean, I'm okay, Ms. Swan. As for Jay…" he grimaced. "I'm sure the meathead'll still want to take her. If not…maybe I can talk to him, promise to help him with his homework or something."

I shook my head, amazed that even after what Emma said, Henry was still only after what made her happy. "What happened that embarrassed her so?"

"I'll let her tell you," he said. "I gotta get home. Bye, Ms. Swan. See you at the party on Saturday…" he glanced up in the direction of Emma's room sadly. "I hope."

"Bye Henry, and hey…" he turned around. "Emma will come around. I'm sure she'll get over it by tomorrow."

Henry smiled at that, and trotted out the door and down the driveway to his truck. Once he was gone, I marched up the stairs, ready to give my daughter a piece of my mind.

"How could you talk that way to Henry?" I demanded, walking into her room.

"Ever heard of knocking?" she asked, not looking up from the magazine she was reading.

"Don't you talk to me that way, Emma Swan. What you said to Henry was really mean, and he did not deserve it."

"You don't know what he did!" she exclaimed, throwing the magazine down.

"Alright," I sat down on the bed beside her, willing myself to be calm. "Alright, then tell me."

Emma took a deep breath, then launched into her story. "Jay met me at my locker today, you know Jay, right?"

"Is this the Jay Hightower that eats whatever he can get out of his nose?"

"Mom!" she yelled. "He hasn't done that since 4th grade! He's different now, he's grown up!"

"Oh, I see," and I did. Jay was six foot two, broad and muscled with a beard, and was the quarterback of the football team. He was handsome, but was never the brightest crayon in the box and the only reason he made passing grades in school was because his teachers didn't want him to be kicked off the team. He wasn't anyone I would have ever imagined Emma liking in a thousand years. "So what did Henry do?"

"Well, like I said, Jay met me at my locker and we started talking. And he was _not_ staring at my chest!"

He better not have.

"And he started talking about the dance, and he was just about to ask me to go with him when Henry walked up, interrupting us and talking about some stupid test."

"You…mean the science test he's been helping you study for?"

She waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, whatever. Both Jay and I tried to _nicely _hint at him to leave us alone, but _then_ Henry started talking about my sweet sixteen you guys are throwing me this weekend."

"What's wrong with that?" I asked. "Did you not want to invite Jay?" I certainly didn't, except maybe it would give me a chance to watch out for where that boy's eyes strayed. I didn't have a bow but I was still good with a knife.

I wasn't blind to the stunning beauty that Emma was becoming. Of course, to me and to everyone who knew her, her beauty was so much more than looks. But to an outsider, she was long legs, golden curls that flowed all the way to her lower back, impossibly big blue eyes, and a figure that was becoming more and more womanly every day. Much to my distress. Emma was oblivious to her looks, but I saw the way men looked at her. It made me glad that Fred had a shotgun and knew how to use it.

"Well, it's just…Henry said that his mom was gonna make pigs-in-a-blanket and bring over the pink paper streamers and leftover poppers from Willie-Jean's last birthday."

"You love pigs-in-a-blanket, and what's wrong with streamers and poppers?"

Emma sighed and rolled her eyes skyward, as if I was just so dim for not seeing it. "Those are things for a baby's party, Mom! I'm turning sixteen! I don't want streamers and poppers! You should have seen the way Jay looked at me. He started laughing! I've never been more embarrassed."

As ridiculous as _I _thought it all was, I didn't tell Emma that, knowing that to her, it as a huge deal. So I wrapped my arm around her and rubbed her back. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I don't think Henry meant to embarrass you. I think he was, like you said, jealous."

She scowled. "How am I supposed to ever get a boyfriend if Henry is always hanging around at my side?"

I gave her a meaningful look, and she pulled away. "Ugh, Mom! I don't think of Henry like that! He's my best friend!"

"I know you say that now but…"

"But nothing, Mom! I don't like him! You know it isn't fair, you have men drooling at your feet everywhere you go."

My eyebrows must have reached my hairline, and I exaggeratedly looked around the room and at my feet, and even under the bed, making Emma giggle. "I do? Gee, I would have liked to know that!"

"It's because you don't notice them," she said. "But they're there. Trust me. I want someone to notice me like that. I want a big romance, like the one you had with my father."

I frowned. "You want a romance that leaves you separated?"

"No…I want a big romance that puts all other romances to shame! You couldn't love Jim because you still loved _him_. I want to hit a guy with a rock and have him fall head over heels for me."

I smiled warmly, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You will, sweetie, trust me. And before you know it, you're going to realize that you have your pick of any guy around because every one of them is going to be vying for your attention. You're going to fall in love with every bit of someone, not just his pretty face. And kiddo? I know you don't want to hear it, but you could hit Henry with a rock and he'd be just as in love with you as he is now."

Emma sighed and flopped back onto her bed, and I mimicked her, placing my head right next to hers.

"I guess I'll apologize to Henry tomorrow."

"Yeah, you should. You know Emma, boys are going to come and go but a friend like Henry is in for the long haul."

Emma nodded. "Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"I do want pigs-in-a-blanket at my sweet sixteen. And the fudge cake that you make."

I chuckled. "Deal. Oh! I almost forgot! A letter came from Auggie! I was waiting to read it with you."

"Where?!" Emma squealed, bouncing off the bed. We raced downstairs together, playfully fighting over who got to open the envelope. "Jeez, this was postmarked like a month ago."

"Mail travels slow from Thailand, I guess," I said. "A bird would have been faster."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. What does it say?"

Emma excitedly scanned the letter. "Hey Family, I've arrived in beautiful Thailand and I have to tell you, it's unbelievable. Especially the food! Blah, blah, blah…"

"Don't blah, blah, blah, what is he saying?"

Emma kept reading ahead, and I watched as her face fell. "He says, 'I know that Em's birthday is coming up, and as much as I'd like to be there, I just don't think it's going to be possible."

I frowned, taking the letter to see for myself. "Oh, Emma, I'm sorry.

"He's never missed my birthday," she said, her lower lip jutting out.

"I'm sure if he could make it he would."

Emma shrugged and handed me the letter to drag her feet back upstairs. I blew the hair out of my face and read the letter over myself, disappointment rolling over me. Oh well, we'd just have to make sure her party was extra-special to make up for the absence of her big brother.

* * *

But Emma's sweet sixteen party never happened.

I was in the middle of trying to keep a classroom full of 4th graders captivated by a lesson about how a law is made. (And thank goodness for Schoolhouse Rock because I'm sorry, but some lessons this world made me teach were just plain boring.)

"Okay, so who can tell me what veto means…"

I looked up at the sharp tap on my door, surprised and more than a little worried to see Fred peeking in.

"Know what, why don't you guys watch the cartoon one more time and try to sing along this time? I'm just going to step out for a second. I better find everyone in their seats where they belong when I get back. Buford, that means you!"

I followed Fred out into the empty hall, my heart in my throat, maternal instincts going haywire. "Fred is everything alright? Emma? Elsa?"

"They're fine," Fred said, gesturing in a calming manner but the look on his face had me feeling anything but calm.

"Is it August?"

"No, May May, that's not it."

I breathed a sigh of relief, my shoulder's relaxing from their tensed position. "Fred, you scared the stuffing out of me! Why are you down here?"

Fred took a deep breath, his face looking older and more wrinkled than I remembered it being that morning. "Something's happened…"

* * *

I pulled into the parking lot of Emma's high school, gripping the steering wheel in a white-knuckle grip. I was still in disbelief, wishing that I could be doing anything but this.

Fred had tried to talk me into letting him come with, but I kindly refused, feeling like it was better if Emma was alone with me. _Better_ would have been if Auggie had been there as well…no _better_ would have been if I didn't have tell her this at all.

I didn't need to go in after Emma, she saw me through the window and trotted out and up to the car, brows furrowed.

"Hey," she said, sliding into the passenger seat. "What's up? It's not even lunchtime."

"Emma…" my hands were still on the wheel, my eyes staring ahead at a statue of a badger. I was afraid to look at her, afraid that if I did I would break down and that was the last thing she needed.

"Mom?" her voice took on a worried tone, reading my expression the way she's so skilled at. "Mama, what's wrong?"

I forced myself to turn, to look her in the eye. I was grateful that at least she could hear this from me, and not in school. "Emma, baby, there's something I have to tell you."

"You're scaring me," she said quietly. "Is Auggie okay?"

"Auggie's fine," I rushed to assure her, knowing her train of thought would be the same as mine had been. "So are Grampa and Granma…"

"Then what? Just come out with it."

I bit my lip, willing myself not to cry just yet. "Sweetie…it's Henry…"

Her eyes widened. "I've been looking for him all day…he didn't show up for school…"

"I know…baby, there was an accident…"

I watched her begin to shrivel, to press herself against the door. "I…is he…hurt?"

"He was making that left turn onto Elm on his way to school…and there was a dump truck…and the driver dozed off…"

"H…how bad?! How bad is he hurt, Mom?! Take me to go see him!"

I reached forward to catch her hand, lacing my fingers through hers before she could pull away. "Baby I'm _so _sorry…"

Emma shook her head wildly, her eyes wide and shining with tears she refused to shed. "No…no…just…let's go to the hospital. Henry's probably fine…he's probably just pissed that he wrecked his truck! _Please_, Mama! Take me to see him!"

I lost my battle with my tears, and brought my free hand up to cradle Emma's face. "He's gone, baby-girl. Henry's gone…I'm so sorry."

"No! No! He can't be gone!" she sobbed, squeezing my hand and kicking the underside of the dash. "I haven't even apologized yet! He thought I hated him!"

"No…Emma, Henry knew that you loved him! You were just upset yesterday, he knew that!"

"But…he was here _yesterday_! He can't be gone! Mommy…."

I dragged Emma across the bench seat and wrapped my arms around her as best and as tightly as I could in the confined space. Wracking sobs coursed through both of our bodies, and one of Emma's hands gripped my side so hard it hurt, but it didn't matter. My baby was hurting, hurting in a way she never should have, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do to help her…except hold her.

I felt a bitter, selfish relief that they had been fighting, which is why Henry didn't pick Emma up that morning. She'd gone early, with me, and as wretched as it made me feel, I thanked God.

Emma's sixteenth birthday was one that was never spoken of again. No one expected her to come from losing her best friend unchanged, but if I thought the worst ended with Henry's death, I was wrong.


	10. Acting Out

**Phew, the response to my last chapter was awesome! Thanks so much! So the next few chapters just went under major re-writes, so I apologize for any extra typos or mistakes that I didn't catch in self-editing. The good news is, since this chapter ended up so long and had to be divided into two chapters, I'll can probably be convinced to update tomorrow. :) **

**Some real Emma drama on the horizon, folks. Hold on to your hats.**

* * *

After crying in my arms just once, it was like Emma had no more tears to shed. She didn't cry at Henry's funeral, or anytime that I could see after that. I worried about her constantly, despite the appearance that she was handling it fine.

Elsa tried to tell me that she was just coping in her own way, and it was true that Emma was not one for outward emotion. She told me to let her be, to let her come to me if needed. But how could I do that?

I tried just to get her talking, tried to give her an outlet. But the more I pushed the more she pulled away, until we were barely speaking at all.

Her grades began to slip, so I asked if she wanted to take a little while off school, maybe homeschool, but she only asked why I was trying to lock her up and stormed off.

One afternoon August called – the first phone call in months.

"Auggie!" I exclaimed, cradling the receiver in both hands. "Honey, it's so good to hear your voice!"

"You too, Mom!" he said. "You have no idea."

"Where are you?"

"A small island off the coast of Thailand. It's gorgeous here, Mom, you'd love it! It's more like the Enchanted Forest than _anywhere _else I've seen! There's this fountain, it looks just like the one in the courtyard of your…"

"August," I interrupted him. Normally I loved nothing more than to hear of his travels, but right now I had only one thing in mind – Emma. "Son, when are you coming home?"

"Home? Uh…well…I don't know, not yet. How's Emma?"

"That should have been the first thing you asked."

He paused. "I'm sorry…you're right, I'm so sorry. She isn't doing good, is she?"

I blew the hair out of my eyes and leaned against the kitchen wall. "Horrible, August. She's keeping it bottled up. She won't even _speak _to me anymore. Her grades are slipping, she spends all her time in her room. I don't know what to do. If you were here, I think you could get her to open up. She loves you more than anything."

"I think you just have to give her _time_, Mom. You know how Emma is, she likes to process things in her own time, you can't rush it. And I know you, you're probably hovering."

"I'm not hovering!" I snapped, then lowered my voice again. "What do you expect me to do, just sit back and watch her suffer? I'm her mother!"

"And unfortunately this is something even a mother can't fix. When she's ready, she'll come to you."

I furrowed my brow. "That's what Elsa said."

"Granma is a smart lady. Look, I gotta go, but I'll try to call back tonight to talk to Em, okay?"

I sighed. "Okay. I love you Auggie, and I miss you."

"I love you too, kiss everyone for me."

"I will…bye," I hung up the phone slowly, then rested my forehead against the wall.

* * *

August did call that night, and had a long talk with Emma. I don't know what was said, but whatever it was, it must have helped because Emma came up to me before bed and hugged me goodnight.

"Love you, Mama."

I hugged her tight, relishing in the feeling, and blessing my son. "I love you too, my little Tree Nymph."

Emma chuckled. "You haven't called me that in a long time."

I smiled and tapped her nose. "You'll always be my little Tree Nymph. So long as you don't run away to live in the trees."

She snorted. "No chance of that."

I looked at her beautiful face, so young and yet so grown up at the same time. I could see the shadow that had been hanging over her the past five months was fading, revealing the real Emma once again.

"You know you can come to me…for _anything_. You know that, right?"

Emma smiled and kissed my cheek. "Yeah, Mama, I know. And I'm okay. I mean it this time. I miss Henry, but I realize…I can't just hole myself up and hide from the world. I wanna…be _alive_, you know?"

I nodded. "I understand. And you should. You should enjoy every single second of your life, especially your youth. Henry would want it that way."

This time when Emma smiled, it was first genuine smile I'd seen from her in so long, that my heart felt like it could burst. "Night, Mom."

"Night, Emma."

* * *

All thoughts of telling Emma about the curse were wiped away by Henry's death. There was no way I could even think of trying to burden her with that on top of everything else. Her mind and emotions just weren't in a stable enough place to take that in. But once she was healing I started to realize how much time had passed. There was only a little more than eleven years left, and while that felt like a long time, sixteen and a half felt like the blink of an eye to me.

And Emma _was _better, she seemed happier, if not back to normal. She was making new friends, when before it was really only her and Henry – Emma and Henry against the world – but she still wasn't talking much.

"How was school?" I would ask on any given day.

"Fine," was all I received, if that, when before I was treated to a play-by-play of her entire day.

"It's the age," Fred said. "Don't you remember when August got like that?"

And I couldn't argue; once he hit high school I had to drag the most mundane information out of the boy. But it felt…different with Emma somehow. Call it Mom Radar.

Late one night I was abruptly jolted out of my sleep, unsure at first what it was that awoke me. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock – 2:15am, and that was when I heard the sound that woke me up.

It was a thump, and then a scrape. I sat up and looked out the window. It wasn't windy. There were plenty of odd sounds in the middle of the night in that old house, but I had a bad feeling. I got out of bed and slipped on my housecoat, feeling an urge to check on Emma that I hadn't felt since she was ten.

When I got close to her room I realized the sound was coming from within. I assumed she was probably just up, unable to sleep and moving about her room.

"Emma?" I called quietly, tapping on the door. When I didn't receive an answer, I opened it, blinking in the darkness until I saw that my daughter was climbing in through her bedroom window.

"Emma?!" I exclaimed, flipping on the light.

"Shit!" she hissed, and tumbled the rest of the way inside.

I couldn't even focus on the curse word. "_What _in the _world _are you doing?"

She looked up, rubbing her head and scowling. "You scared the shit out of me!"

_This _time I could focus on the curse word. "Emma Swan you better _watch_ what you say to me or I'll smack that word right out of your mouth!"

She smirked, and even though I was all talk, smacking her was starting to sound good. "You sound like Elsa. You'd never hit me."

It made me even angrier that she was right. "Since when do you use that kind of language and since _when _are you sneaking out at night?!"

"Will you stop yelling? I was just hanging out with a couple of friends down the street, it's no big deal."

"It's a _huge_ deal, Emma! Last I saw you, you were in your pajamas and telling me goodnight! What if something happened to you?! I wouldn't have known!"

"It wasn't like I went out alone! I was _with friends_. They showed up outside my window and asked me to come out. I didn't want to wake you."

My mouth hanged open as I looked from my daughter to the window and back again. "How did you even climb out?! Much less in?!"

"There's a tree."

I covered my face with my hands. My little Tree Nymph. I took several deep breaths and counted to ten. Twice. _She's just acting out_, I told myself. _She's had a rough time, and now she's acting out. If you make it a big deal, it'll only make it worse_.

"Emma, you can't do that, you can't sneak out. Baby, I need to know where you are."

She frowned and shoved her hands in her jacket pockets. "Sorry."

"I'm giving you a pass. _Just this once_! Do you understand me? You are _not _to leave this house in the middle of the night again and _certainly _not ever without my permission, is that clear?"

"Yeah," she mumbled.

"Excuse me?"

She rolled her eyes and spoke more clearly. "Yes, ma'am."

I checked on her twice more that night, making sure she was tucked safely in bed.

* * *

"That child snuck out, swore at you, and you didn't punish her?" Elsa asked incredulously the next afternoon before Emma came home from school.

"She's never broken the rules before, ever!" I said in my own defense. "I thought that for a first-time offense, she deserved to be let off with a warning!"

"Gotta be careful, though," Fred said. "If she thinks she can get away with it…"

"She seemed really sorry," I said. "If anything like it happens again, I'll be stricter."

Right then Emma came home, tossing her backpack unceremoniously on the floor, like usual. She paused in the foyer, staring at us at as we sat around the kitchen table – staring at her.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," I said breezily. "I'm making that casserole you like tonight."

"Great," she said, smiling. "Save me some? I'm not gonna be here."

"And where will you be exactly?"

She shrugged. "The movies."

I got up from the table, ignoring the look Elsa was shooting me. "Honey, after last night I don't think…"

"What?" she interrupted. "You said it was okay."

"I said no such thing! I said I was letting it slide, _just_ that once."

"And…that means I'm not grounded or anything. So I can go out. Tara's picking me up."

I bit my lower lip to prevent myself from forbidding her to go, trying to pick my battles. It was just a movie, after all, and I knew Tara. "Home by ten."

"The movie's not _over _till ten."

"10:30 then, and not a minute later!"

She rolled her eyes and that was really starting to bug me. "Fiiine…"

After she'd stomped upstairs I turned to find Elsa and Fred wearing identical bemused expressions.

"She has a curfew, if she doesn't obey it, she's grounded. Happy?"

The older couple shrugged and went about their business, while I just hoped that my baby did the right thing.

* * *

Emma was home ten minutes late, but blamed it on Tara's car not wanting to start when they left the theater, so I let it go. The next night she went to Tara's house, and was home seven minutes late, but said that she'd lost track of the time, so I told her she couldn't go out the next night, and she didn't.

I thought things were going okay. She wanted to go out every night, but didn't fight me when I told her that she couldn't. (Those nights I couldn't sleep, listening obsessively for sounds of her sneaking out, and checking on her at least twice.) She even brought up her math grade, so I rewarded her by allowing her to stay out until eleven for a monster-movie marathon in town.

It was past midnight and I sat in Fred's chair, equal parts worried sick and furious. I called Tara's mother, only to hear that Tara had been home for an hour and a half.

I was just about to wake Fred and go out in search for her when the door opened slowly and I watched as Emma tip-toed inside.

I sat in darkness and silence while she toed off her boots, nearly tripping over them and swearing under her breath. She then went into the kitchen and started poking around and I _knew_ what she was doing. She was going to come up to my room where she probably thought I'd be and pretend that she'd been home for an hour, making herself something to eat.

"There's leftover meatloaf in the fridge," I said, leaning against the counter.

Emma jumped and made a "shh" sound, catching herself before she could curse.

"Emma Swan you are…" I checked the clock. "One hour and twelve minutes late."

"I'm sorry," she began. "Here's the thing…Tara's car…"

"Has been parked at her house since 10:30," I finished for her. "So don't bother. _Where_ have you been?"

She fumbled for a moment for something to say. "I was just talking with some friends…outside the theater…and I lost track of the time!"

"It's after midnight!" I was trying not to yell, but finding it harder and harder not to. "I didn't know where you were! I was just about to come looking for you!" I walked farther into the kitchen, and frowned when Emma backed away from me as if I carried the plague. "What are you doing?"

"I said I was sorry," she mumbled. "I'm tired, can you yell at me tomorrow?"

"Why won't you look at me?" I stepped closer.

"I'm looking at you," she stepped away.

I reached out and grabbed her wrist, holding her still while I took her chin between my fingers and lifted her face to meet mine, and then I knew why she was turning her face away. So I couldn't smell what was on her breath. "You've been drinking!"

"I haven't…"

"Don't lie to me, Emma Swan, don't you _dare _lie to me! That's beer! You've been drinking beer!"

"I had _one_," she said, trying to pull away.

I shook my head. "No, your eyes are glassy, you've had more than one."

"Okay, so I had a couple. It's no big deal."

"Yeah, it is, you're sixteen, Emma. You're not old enough to drink!"

"I wasn't gonna get drunk or anything, I'm not stupid! And I'm not a baby!"

"But you _are _still a child, and not only have you broken the rules, you've broken the law and missy, you are _so _grounded."

Emma groaned, looking upward. "How long?"

"Two weeks."

"_Two weeks_? But Mom…"

"Don't want to hear it, now go to bed."

Emma got a glass of water and glared at me on her way out of the kitchen. Once she was gone, my anger crumbled leaving nothing but disappointment and worry.

I didn't know what to do.


	11. Gone

**Here we go! Just as I promised! So I know that some of you aren't crazy about Snow and Emma right now, but just stick with me. I have a point. :)**

* * *

"Okay, yeah, being out past curfew was bad," August said the next day when he called. "But Mom, let's be real here. How old were you when you first had beer? 'Cause I was seven."

I was seven too, but that was completely beside the point. "It was different there! Everyone drank beer! There was no age limit!"

"So why are you so upset that Emma drank? Can't just be a stupid law."

"Because we're _here_, where it's illegal, and honestly, I think it's for good reason. And besides, it wasn't just that she drank, it was that she was trying to hide it and _lied _about it. I think she's been lying a lot, I just haven't known! That wasn't the first time she's ever drank, I know it! I don't know what to do, Auggie!"

"I don't know either, Mama."

"Did you drink before you were of age?" I asked him. "Back home notwithstanding."

"Nah, my friends weren't into partying or anything. I was the good child."

I rolled my eyes. "You better not be lying."

"I know what happens when I do that! I like my nose thankyouverymuch!"

I chuckled, happy that _he _seemed to be happy. "I'm glad you can joke about it now. So, you're going to make it for Emma's birthday, right?"

"Well…"

"August!" I exclaimed. "You haven't been home in over a _year_! And Emma needs you! It's going to be really tough for her this year! Besides, we all miss you!"

"I've got a really good job, here, Mom. I don't think I can get the time off."

"Are you still working at that restaurant?"

"No, I got a new job."

"You did? Doing what?"

"Ah, damn it…oh! Sorry, Mom, I mean dang it. Look I gotta go, love you!"

"Love you too," I sighed as the line went dead.

* * *

Emma did really well her two weeks of 'ground-ation' as she called it. She was respectful, came straight home from school, even talked about her day at the dinner table.

"So," Fred asked one evening over chicken and rice. "What do you want to do for your birthday this year, little missy?"

I held my breath, waiting for her reaction. But though a look of sadness spread across her features, she seemed to be okay.

"Actually, a couple of my friends want to take me out."

"On your birthday?" I asked. "But we always celebrate your birthday together. Can't they take you out the night after?"

Emma's smile was strained and she shrugged. "It's just...we used…it was us and it was…"

I nodded. We normally either had a party at home or took Emma to the destination of her choosing, and always, _always_ brought Henry along. Every year since her sixth birthday.

"I just thought that something different would be…better for me. You know? I don't mean to hurt your feelings or anything…"

"I understand," I said. "And it's okay. You can go out with your friends."

"Can I spend the night at Tara's?"

I gave her a pointed look. "You may, but I want you at Tara's by curfew, and I will be calling her mother to make sure."

She nodded. "Yes ma'am, thanks."

Tara's mother actually called me, saying that both girls arrived home three minutes before curfew and were busy giggling in Tara's room. Emma got on the phone briefly and let me wish her happy birthday, telling me that she'd had a good time with her friends and thanked me for understanding.

So imagine my surprise when Fred, Elsa and I were all awoken to a banging on the door and red and blue lights flashing on our front lawn.

I threw the door open, all but shoving Fred out of way, feeling my heart hit my feet in relief and anger to find Emma on the other side, accompanied by a police officer.

"Emma!" I gasped. "What…you were at Tara's! You're supposed to be at Tara's!"

"I caught the girls, along with some other kids loitering at the corner store. Some of them were drinking and making a ruckus." the officer said flatly.

"I wasn't!" Emma exclaimed, holding up her hands. "I wasn't drinking, ask her!"

The officer nodded. "Not by the time I got there at least. We took the rest down to the station, but when Miss Swan here told us who her granddad is, I decided just to take her and the other girl home. Hi, Mr. Swan."

"Evenin' Heather. How's your dad?"

The officer smiled. "He's just fine, sir. I knew he'd have my rear end if I took in his old partner's granddaughter so I'm letting her off with a warning," she looked at Emma. "You and your friend stay out of trouble, hear me? I don't want to find you out in the middle of the night again."

"You won't," I hissed, and grabbed Emma's arm, hauling her none-too-gently inside.

Officer Heather tipped her hat and left, then Fred and Elsa quietly made their way upstairs.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked lowly. I was actually past yelling at this point.

"Now who's cursing?" Emma retorted, seeming to realize her mistake instantly by the way her eyes widened.

Seething, I dragged her by her upper arm into the living room while she twisted and protested in my grip, then threw her roughly at the sofa with strength born of anger.

"Ow! Hey!" she cried, tumbling against the cushions. "That hurt!"

"Good!" now I was definitely yelling. "I'm glad it hurt! Do you have any idea how hurt _I _am right now?! I trusted you, Emma! I can't believe you would do this! What did you do, sneak out of Tara's house?!"

"It wasn't exactly sneaking," Emma muttered, her posture defiant but her eyes fearful. "Her mother's a drunk, didn't you know that? She was passed out."

"Good to know, you're definitely never going over _there_ again!"

"Ah, come on, Mom!"

"No! This is it, Emma! I'm not having any more of this!"

"I wasn't drinking!" she yelled. "Everyone else was but I said no! Doesn't that count for anything?"

"You still went out after curfew! You were supposed to be safe, at Tara's house, not out on the streets with a bunch of kids I don't even know! Who even are they, Emma?"

"Just kids from school," she said. "I didn't know all of them."

"Well and good, because you're not seeing them again."

"You can't dictate that!"

"Like hell I can't! And maybe Tara isn't such a good influence, either!"

"It's not her fault! I'm the one who dragged _her _out! It was my idea!"

"You never used to do this, Emma, I used to be able to _trust_ you!"

"Things used to be different!" she screamed, only it came out cracked and watery, and only then did I realize she was crying. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I won't do it again!"

"I wish I could believe you," I said, beginning to cry myself. "I really do. But I don't. You're grounded for a month."

"Wha…"

"And after that you may have friends over to the house, and that's it, until further notice. You won't be allowed out with them until I decide I can trust you again. _If_ I decide that I can."

"You can't do this."

I took a step closer, wanting nothing more than to bundle her in my arms, yet at the same time wanting to shake her. "I can and I will. I love you, Emma, I just don't want anything bad to happen to you," I reached out, meaning to take her hand but brushed her wrist instead, making her hiss and pull it to her chest. "What is it, did you hurt yourself?"

"It's just a scratch," she said, and I realized that there was a bandage underneath her stacked bracelets.

"Let me see," I said, taking her hand and touching the bandage.

"I said it's just a scratch," she pulled, trying to get away, and my intuition screamed.

"Emma. Hold. Still."

Groaning in defeat, she yanked her hand back and pulled off the bracelets and bandage herself then presented her wrist back to me with a defiant glare.

When I saw the "scratch," I couldn't believe my eyes. "You…is that…a _tattoo_?"

"Maybe."

It was a tiny black flower on the inside of her wrist, still red and scabbed around the edges. "I can't…you got a _tattoo?_ How? You're not old enough!"

"My friend had a friend. It's just a little one. It was a birthday present."

"Go to your room," I said, turning away.

"Mom…"

"I said GO!"

Fred and Elsa came out of hiding after that, and sat on either side of me on the couch, murmuring comforting words that did nothing to help.

* * *

Emma didn't speak a single word to me for over a week. She went to school, and I picked her up, not trusting her to come straight home. The rides home were long and silent, and then she went straight to her room where she stayed until dinner. She wanted to take her dinner in her room, but Elsa forbade it. As soon as the meal was over though, we didn't see her again until morning.

One evening she locked her door so that I couldn't check on her in the night, so I had Fred remove the lock and informed her that if she tried to lock it again, I would have him remove the door too. That was the first time she spoke to me since her birthday, and it was to scream at me at the top of her lungs.

I cried every night, and couldn't let myself sleep. It started to wear on me, my coworkers started to ask me if I was feeling okay, no doubt noticing the bags under my eyes. My class picked up on my mood and some of the children became quiet while the others acted up. My hair sprouted more gray.

One night, as I lied awake in my bed, I thought of Charming for the first time in months. Thoughts of him, thoughts of _home_ had grown more and more infrequent. It wasn't that I didn't still love and miss him. If anything I'd never missed him _more_, it just all felt so…distant and less important. I pulled out the drawing that August had made and let me keep, and ran my finger over his face.

I was beginning to forget some things. Just little things like the exact timbre of his voice, or the exact color of his hair in the light of the setting sun. I was also forgetting things like the sound of Red's laugh, or the words to songs I used to sing with the dwarfs. And all of my memories were beginning to take on a hazy quality. I hated it, but I supposed that just happened with time.

I kissed the painted image of my husband and tucked it under my pillow, hoping that maybe it would help me feel a little closer to him.

* * *

"May May, phone for you!" Fred called from the kitchen one bright Sunday afternoon.

Emma was no longer grounded, meaning she could have friends over, so she and Tara were in up in her room, behaving themselves for once. That didn't mean for a second that I didn't check on them every so often.

"Hello?" I sang into the receiver, thinking it was probably Tara's mother wanting her home.

"Hey, May May."

"Jim!" I exclaimed, utterly surprised. He hadn't called me on the telephone since that dreadful night years ago, and I'd been dodging his and Emily's invitations to lunch for a few weeks.

"How've you been?" he asked.

"We've been alright. How about you? How's Lottie?"

Jim and Emily's daughter, Charlotte, was a two-year-old bundle of hyper-activity and hot temper, almost making me dread getting her in my class in eight years.

"She's wonderful," he said happily. "And Emily says hi and that you should really have lunch with us."

I chuckled uncomfortably. "Yes, I know we need to do that. I've just been so busy."

"I understand. Look, that isn't why I called."

He sounded so hesitant, it was making me nervous. "Oh?"

"Yeah, listen, I know it isn't any of my business, but I just thought you should know…"

"Know what?" I prompted.

"I saw Emma the other day, skipping school."

I nearly dropped the receiver. "_What_? She was skipping school?!"

"Yeah, look I'm sorry, I probably should have told you already but I just didn't think it was my place. It's been bugging me though and I just _had _to tell you. She was with this guy, and I don't know if you know of him or not but I….I just didn't like the looks of him."

I had to drag a chair from the kitchen table so I could sit down. "No! I don't know him! What do you mean? What do you mean you didn't like the looks of him?"

"I don't know, he just looked kind of shifty to me. Grungy, hair too long, and older."

"Older? How much older?"

"He look at least 25, maybe even older than that."

I felt like I could throw up. "And…what were they doing? Was she just talking to him? Are you sure they were together? Maybe he's just the older brother of a friend or something…"

"Well, whatever he was they were very…friendly."

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not. It was only the fact that I had my hands full with Lottie and Emily wasn't around that I didn't go over and slug him for putting his hands on her."

_Hands on her_? A man was putting his _hands_ on my baby? I groaned and rubbed by face. '_My baby who sneaks out, skips school, drinks and gets tattoos_.

"Mary Margaret?" Jim asked when I didn't speak for a while. "You okay?"

"No," I admitted, my voice wobbly. "Not really. Jim, she's out of control. I've tried everything. She was grounded for a month for sneaking out on her birthday and getting brought home by the police. She got a tattoo!"

"What?! Oh, man, I had no idea. I knew she's been having a bad time…"

"What do I do?"

"I don't know, Mary Margaret. I mean, you know what I had to do with Max when he was in high school."

"I don't think military school is the answer, Jim."

"No, but you have to do something now before it's too late."

For just a fraction of a second I thought he meant too late for Emma to break the curse, but I shook myself. That was obviously not what he meant.

"I don't want to lose her."

"You won't. Mary Margaret, I know it looks bad now, but Emma is a good kid."

"She _is _a good kid. I just wish I knew how to keep it that way."

"I wish I could tell you how, but you're the only one who can answer that."

I nodded, not caring that he couldn't see me. "Thank you, Jim, thank you so much for telling me. I better go now and have a…heart to heart with my daughter."

"Okay, May May. Just stay firm, don't back down."

"Right. Thanks."

After I hung up I had to sit there for some time, trying to figure out what I should do. What was left? Punishing her didn't matter, she just snuck around and did what she wanted. What then, lock her up? But I wasn't about to do to her what happened to Rapunzel.

Gathering my nerve, I decided I would just talk to her, no yelling. Maybe if I just got her talking like an adult, we could come to an understanding. I climbed the stairs slowly, dreading the coming conversation.

I opened the door without knocking, finding the girls sprawled out across Emma's bed.

"Tara, it's time for you to go home," I said.

"Mom, it's not even dinner time," Emma snapped.

"I know what time it is, Emma, and it's time for Tara to go."

They must have read in my voice that it was not up for debate, so Tara silently gathered up her purse and trotted out.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Okay, what did I do this time?"

I crossed my arms, and leaned against the doorframe. "I don't know, you tell me."

She smirked. "Uh, I forgot to say please at the breakfast table this morning."

"Try forgetting to go to school the other day."

I got a smidgen of satisfaction from the way the color drained from her face. "What?"

"You know exactly 'what.' I've gotten some information that you were seen walking around town when you were _supposed _to be in school."

"Who told you?"

"That is _exactly_ the wrong thing to say, Emma. It doesn't matter who told me. You were _grounded_ for a _month _for the last stunt you pulled, so you go and do something even worse."

She scoffed. "Worse? Come on, skipping school hardly rates high on the sin chart. It was only one time, everyone has done it at least once."

"I don't care what _everyone _does. I care what _you _do. I care that you were seen with an older man that _I've never even heard of_. Who is he? Why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone?!" I was quickly losing my resolve not to yell.

"Because I knew you'd react like this!" she exclaimed, gesturing toward me with a flap of her hand. "And it's none of your business who I date!"

"It most certainly _is _my business! You're seventeen, Emma! You're still a child!"

"Don't _call_ me a child! I'm _not_ a child! Neal is a great guy, if you only got to know him…"

"Well how can I get to know him if you never planned on telling me about him?!"

"I was going to!''

"When?!"

"I don't know!"

"How old is he?"

"What?"

I sighed, mentally counting to ten. "You heard me. How old is he?"

"What difference does that make?"

"I want to know."

"28, what does it matter?"

"It _matters_ because _you _are still underage and _he _is a grown man."

Emma ran her hands through her hair and began to pace. "Well, you can do whatever you want, you can't keep me away from him."

I ran my hands through my own hair and caught our reflections in her dresser mirror. Our faces were identical shades of red and our eyes blazed with the same heat. "Emma, I am your mother and until you're eighteen what I say goes. And I am not allowing you out doing God-knows-what with a grown man I don't even know."

She folded her arms. "Neal is a great guy, Mom! He loves me!"

"Then introduce him to me!"

"It won't matter! All you'll see is what you already have in your head. What do you want, Mom? Do you want me out of the house the moment I turn eighteen so I can move in with him? Because I will! If you try to keep me away from him, I will!"

I could see in Emma's eyes that she meant every word. What could I do? I, more than anyone, knew the power of True Love, but Emma was still so young and going through a hard time. And I didn't know this Neal, I didn't know what his motives were for spending time with a young girl. But I was losing her, slowly but surely.

I took a breath, ready to give in…but I couldn't. To give in, to let her do as she pleased no matter the danger, was akin to giving up on her. And that was something I wasn't willing to do.

"You are no longer allowed out of this house without me, Fred or Elsa."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Please, you're bluffing."

"I will be dropping you off at school every day, and picking you up, and your teachers will be instructed to call me if you miss any of your classes."

"You're crazy! You can't do that!"

"If you skip school again, you will be homeschooled."

"What the hell are you doing?! You can't be serious!"

Tears rolled down my eyes as I looked at her, nearly pulling out her hair in fury, hatred twisting her features, and it was all aimed at me. "I love you, Emma, and I will never stop fighting for you. Never stop trying to protect you. Never stop trying to give you your best chance. Even if that means you hate me for the rest of your life."

"Well, you accomplished one thing," she spat.

I turned without another word and left her room, shutting the door behind me and leaning against it, sliding until I was sitting on the floor. Then I pressed my head against my knees and sobbed.

* * *

Three days later August called with the happy news that at long last, he was coming home. And he'd be there the next day. I practically floated through work that day, just _knowing_ that his presence would help immensely. Plus, I was simply excited to see my son. I couldn't wait to pick Emma up from school and tell her. Maybe she wouldn't squeal in excitement like she once would, but maybe, just _maybe _I'd get to see her smile.

I waited in the car pick-up line, all but bouncing in my seat. And I waited. And waited.

Until I was the last car left.

Biting my tongue in irritation, I figured she must had taken the bus home, but whatever she did I decided then and there to let it go and not even mention the infraction to her. She'd be relieved not to be in trouble again, and I didn't care if Elsa nagged me for letting her "walk all over" me. Tonight we were going to be happy about our family coming together again, and nothing could ruin that.

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sudden tapping on my window, so absorbed in my thoughts as I was.

I rolled down the window. "Hey, Tara, need a ride home? Do you know where Emma went?"

Tara was biting her lip nervously and fidgeting with the straps of her backpack. "No, and…yes…"

I sighed. "It's okay, just tell me, Tara. She won't be in trouble."

"That's just it," the petite girl said. "I think she _might_ be in trouble."

Tara skipped backward as I opened the car door abruptly, getting out to come face-to-face with her.

"Where is Emma?"

"She made me promise not to tell…but…"

"Tara, TELL ME!"

"She's gone," the girl blurted. "Neal picked her up from school, and his car was full of suitcases. They're gone."


	12. Coming Home

**I might be spoiling y'all with these rapid updates, but I had it ready, and I had the time, so I thought why not. :D **

**I have to say, that some of you are so passionately angry at Snow and Emma and can describe to me how you hate their decisions as if I'm not the one who made them do it, and then say you love the story is possibly one the greatest compliments I have ever received as a writer! :D**

**Thanks! **

* * *

"She's gone," the girl blurted. "Neal picked her up from school, and his car was full of suitcases. They're gone."

"What do you mean, gone?! Where did they go!"

"I don't know! I honestly don't, Ms. Swan! She wouldn't tell me exactly where, only that they were running away together. Neal got into some trouble with the police in Augusta and told Emma he was running. He actually refused to take her at first, but she insisted, she said she wanted to be with him. She made me promise not to tell anyone until they've had a chance to get out of town, but I'm scared for her."

I covered my mouth with my hand, wanting to cry, wanting to scream, but doing neither of those things.

"I have to go," I said dazedly. "Tara, if you hear from Emma…"

"I'll call you," Tara said. "I promise. Neal isn't a bad guy, Ms. Swan, really. But Emma is going to ruin her life doing this."

I nodded. "Thank you, sweetie, you're a good friend, now I have to go."

I realized only after I left that I didn't think to ask Tara how long they'd been gone, but if Emma had missed a class I would have known about it, so it couldn't have been more than forty-five minutes.

I broke all sorts of laws on my way home, but I could hardly think straight. Neal was in trouble with the police…for what?! What was he dragging my baby into? My baby…my baby…I just kept chanting it in my mind. I had to find her.

_I will always find you_.

"Dad!" I cried before I even got the door open. "Dad!"

Fred came stomping hurriedly downstairs, and Elsa bustled in from the kitchen. "What's wrong?!" he asked, catching the manic tone of my voice.

I told them what Tara told me as I paced the foyer like a hunted animal. I felt like something was sitting on my chest, preventing me from breathing right.

"Oh my Lord," Elsa breathed, a hand fluttering to her chest.

"I'll call the station," Fred said, going into full-on cop mode. "Don't you worry, May May, I got some buddies in Augusta and a few boys in other counties who owe me favors. We'll have baby-girl back before the day is up. Just wait till I get my hands on that boy she's with."

"Me first," I growled, raking my hands roughly through my short hair. '_Wait till I get my hands on _Emma,' I thought. I was fully prepared to lock her in a tower after this.

Fred was on the phone all afternoon, calling everyone he knew still in the force. We got more information on this Neal Cassidy, though it still wasn't much. All that was really known about him was the he had a warrant out for his arrest for grand larceny and was last seen in Augusta.

Janice, Henry's mother, came over with her two youngest girls to help me make up a list of everyone Emma spent time with. I called each and every one, but none of them claimed to know anything about it.

* * *

Before the day was done the entire county was looking for her, not that it consoled me much because by that point they'd had ample time to make it out of the area.

I spent a long, sleepless night curled up in Fred's chair with Emma's baby blanket, my eyes glued to the front door, willing it to open, for Emma to walk through it.

When the front door did open the following afternoon and one of my children sauntered on in, I wasn't nearly as happy as I should have been.

"Honey! I'm home!" August sang, dropping his duffle bag on the floor with a flourish. He frowned at me where I stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. "What, don't you recognize me? Do I get a hug?"

Smiling despite myself, I ran to him and threw my arms around his now much broader shoulders. I would have cried into his shirt, if I'd had any tears left.

"Look at you," I said, my voice cracking. I took a step back, keeping my hands on his arms, and took in his scruffy beard and messy hair. "Auggie, I've missed you so much."

August pulled me in for another hug. "Me too, Mama. Are you shrinking or something?"

I smacked his arm. "You're just getting huge. August, something's happened."

"Emma again?" he groaned. "What's she done this time?"

"She ran away."

"Huh? Ran away? To where, the circus?"

"This isn't a joke, August! She has a boyfriend and he's in trouble with the law. They ran off together!"

August turned away, spewing swear words I'd only recently learned. "You gotta be kidding me," he muttered. "I'm gonna kill that girl. And then this boyfriend. And then her again. She's gonna ruin everything!"

"What do you mean, ruin everything?"

He gestured nonsensically with both hands. "You know damn well, what! She can't break the curse if she's off eloping with some deadbeat!"

I gaped at him. "The _curse_?! Your baby sister is out there alone with a criminal and you're worried about the damn _curse_?!"

"Aren't you?! That's our family, Mom!"

"I know that! But right now _Emma_ is priority. I'll care about the rest of it when I have my child home safe!"

"What are you two yellin' about?" Fred asked, entering the room. "Some way to welcome our boy home."

"Sorry, Dad," I said, rubbing my face, realizing after a second that August was unconsciously mimicking me. "I'm sorry, honey."

"No, I'm sorry," August said. "I'm not helping. Look, she's gonna come home. She's lived a sheltered life. Ten minutes in the real world'll have her running home as fast as she can."

"You're forgetting how stubborn she is," I groaned. "If only she'd just _call_! Maybe I could reason with her, bargain even! I don't care just so long as she comes home!"

"We should really get cell phones," August muttered.

* * *

For one, agonizing week, we heard nothing. No reports of arrest, no sightings, no phone call. Elsa tried to get food into me, but I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't think really. Every worst-case scenario imaginable went through my mind. Everything from Neal being a psychopath who preys on innocent young girls, to Emma being forced into doing something horrible when they run out of money. While I begged the phone to ring, to be able to know where and how she is, I also feared it. I was petrified of every police officer who visited, so afraid that the next one would bring news that Emma was never coming home.

Realistically I knew that Emma was a strong, capable young woman who, thanks to Fred's insistence on years of self-defense classes and her own toughness and love of kickboxing, could very well protect herself. But who would protect her from herself? What if in her quest to be all grown-up she got stuck in a world of things she'd been quite sheltered from until there was no way out?

On the fourth day someone who owed Fred a favor got a message out on the radio that apparently went out as far as New York, giving listeners Neal and Emma's descriptions. When I heard it I was surprised that it painted Emma as a kidnapping victim, since that wasn't strictly true, but Fred said that it would get far more attention than a story about a teenage runaway.

I sat in Fred's chair all night, every night, dozing from sheer exhaustion without really getting any rest. On the seventh night I was bent uncomfortably with my knees pressed against my chest and my toes crammed between the chair cushion and the armrest, but I was so tired, so emotionally worn out that I didn't have the energy to find a more comfortable position. I felt like I was half-dead…and maybe I was.

I just kept thinking, '_I failed, I failed her. I tried to be a good mother and I failed. This is all my fault_. _Just let her be safe. Wherever she is, let her be safe.'_

I vaguely registered August tucking a throw around my shoulders. "You should go to bed, Mom."

I blinked up at him but didn't answer. Going to bed wouldn't help. Sleep wouldn't come.

It was so quiet, so still that the sudden blare of the telephone pierced the room like a knife, making August and I both jump.

It was three in the morning; no one would be calling then. My heart leapt into my throat and I threw back the blanket and scrambled to my feet, wobbling because they'd long since fallen asleep on me since I couldn't.

August was headed for the phone too, but I beat him to it, almost ripping it out of the wall in the process.

"Hello? Emma?!"

For a moment there was nothing but static, but I knew…I _knew _she was there.

"Emma, baby, please talk to me! Come home, _please_!"

"Mom?" her voice was trembling.

I sobbed in relief, clutching the phone as if I was holding her, slumping against the wall. August hovered over me, trying to listen in. "Emma! Sweetheart, thank God! Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I'm fine," she said, and despite the static there was unmistakable remorse in her voice. "I'm fine, Mama. I'm sorry."

"It's okay! It's alright, please, _please_ just tell me where you are. We can talk this out."

"I want to come home…"

I grabbed August's hand, squeezing tight enough to feel something pop, but he didn't complain. "Okay! I'll come get you, baby."

"I messed up, Mom. I messed everything up!"

"Emma, please listen to me. I don't care what you've done, or what you think you've done. We're going to be just fine. You can come home and everything is going to be just fine."

"You promise?"

"I promise, baby, now I'm begging you, tell me where you are!"

* * *

Emma gave me the address for a roadside diner two hours out of town. I woke Fred and Elsa and told them before literally running to the car. Only because August used his strength over me to get the keys did I let him drive. I spent two hours barking at him to go faster.

I was terrified that Emma would change her mind and leave before I got there, she had sounded so ashamed. Or maybe Neal would show up and drag her off. It was like I couldn't _breathe _until I had her safely in my arms where she belonged.

When we pulled up to the 24-hour truck stop, it was practically deserted, with only one semi parked out front. A whole new kind of fear emerged when I took in the shady place and I jumped out of the car before August could even come to a complete stop, running full-pelt for the diner until I heard a soft, breathy call from somewhere to my right.

Emma was huddled up on the curb by the payphone, looking up at me with glistening eyes.

"Emma!" I cried, all but falling to her side and gathering her up into my arms. I was hugging and checking her for harm all at the same time. She was shivering, but it could have been from emotion and fear instead of cold because she was wearing a thick leather jacket that was clearly for a man.

"I'm sorry, Mommy, I'm so, so sorry!" she cried, burying her face into my neck.

I hushed her soothingly, rubbing her back. "Shh, don't cry, baby. It's alright now. Everything's alright. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

She shook her head and hiccupped. "No, I'm not hurt. Can we go home?"

I half-laughed, half-sobbed and helped her to her feet, not letting her go for a second.

August was waiting by the car, but broke into a jog toward us once we headed over. He almost picked Emma up with the force of his hug, and she began to cry even more at the sight of him.

"Auggie!"

"Come on, Em, let's get you home."

I sat in the backseat with her, unwilling to be separated by even the space between the back and front seat of the car. She didn't seem to mind, curling up against me and falling asleep almost instantly. I still couldn't shut my eyes, frightened that if I did, I would open them and she wouldn't be there.

The sun was up by the time got home. Fred and Elsa greeted Emma quietly and gently, for we all no doubt looked like a bunch of zombies, then sent the three of us straight to bed.

I waited for Emma in her room while she showered, and when she returned wearing blue pajamas covered in swans and her big bunny slippers I could have cried from joy.

"I guess you want to talk," she said, plopping down beside me on the bed.

"No, I think we've all earned some rest. Why don't you get some sleep, and we'll talk when you wake up?"

She nodded and crawled under the covers, letting me tuck them around her shoulders.

"Mama?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Will you stay with me?"

I didn't answer, not trusting myself to speak without becoming a sobbing wreck again, just moved to the other side of the bed and crawled in beside her.

"I love you, Emma."

"I love you, too," she whispered, laying her head on my shoulder and curling herself around me like she hadn't done since she was little.

And that morning, with my little girl in my arms, her breath on my neck, and her hair tickling my nose, I finally slept.

* * *

I didn't wake up until well into the evening, though Emma was still asleep, so I just lay still beside her and held her, watching her peaceful face. In sleep she looked more like my baby girl than the woman she was rapidly becoming. I missed her little snaggle-toothed, cherub face, mourned the childhood that was unceremoniously swept out from under her a couple of years too early.

What made it all worse was that she didn't even know of the storm that was coming. The "final battle," whatever that meant. She had no clue that she was destined to be a hero, a savior to her people. If I could, I would have kept in her wrapped up in my arms forever, away from battles and Regina and the all of the dangers that came from this massive world.

I caught the change in Emma's breathing a second before her eyes opened, and I dismissed my worried thoughts to smile at her instead.

"Hey, sleepyhead."

"What time is it?" she mumbled.

"Almost seven. We should go downstairs and see if they left us any dinner."

"I'm starving," she said. "Haven't eaten since yesterday."

I released her reluctantly and got up, pausing when she just perched on the edge of her bed, looking very pale.

"Are you feeling okay?" I wondered when last _she _slept. Though the long nap had done me a world of good, coupled with my utter relief, I could feel the past week catching up to me and knew I'd need a lot more rest before I was back to normal. "Why don't you stay here, and I'll bring us up something?"

She seemed to like that idea, and nodded, curling back up against the pillows.

"Hey!" August exclaimed, bouncing off the couch to meet me at the foot of the stairs. "How's Em?"

"Tired," I said. "I'm just going to get her something to eat…"

"I saved you both plates," Elsa said, going to the kitchen and pulling two plates loaded up with pot roast, mashed potatoes and green beans. "And I want them licked clean by the time you bring them back!"

"Yes ma'am," I smiled. "Thanks, Mom."

"Has she said anything?" Fred asked. "Her boy is still on the run. They haven't caught him."

I sighed. "No, not yet. I'm not going to rush her though, I'm just happy she's home."

"We all are," Elsa said. "You tell her that, and that we love her."

* * *

I found Emma sitting cross-legged on her bed, her baby blanket wrapped around her shoulders and her old stuffed dragon in her lap. I handed her a plate and at first she just picked at it, but then suddenly she was eating ravenously. "I love Granma's pot roast," she said between bites.

"Me too," I agreed, enjoying food for the first time in…I couldn't remember when.

We finished our meals in silence, and then I took our plates and set them on her desk. "You want to talk?" I asked.

Emma kept her eyes cast downward, fingering the wings on her dragon. "I'm sorry, Mama," she said wearily. "For everything I did, for everything I said, I'm _so _sorry. You don't deserve to be treated that way."

I had to admit, though she'd already said she was sorry, I was a little amazed by this apology. It was so sincere and so…grown up. I didn't tell her it was okay this time though, because we both knew that it wasn't. She didn't need brushed off or even a guilt trip. She needed that one thing only parents can give so freely and unconditionally, "I forgive you, Emma."

She looked up at me then, her eyes watery and red. "I don't know what I was thinking. I was just so…I don't know…and then Neal…"

"Why don't you tell me a little bit about him?" I prompted. Though I hated everything about her relationship with this man, and even the man himself for stealing away my baby, completely discrediting him was hypocritical of me. I was once a thief, I broke up an engagement and started a war. I was far from perfect. If only Emma knew the real me. Falling in love with Charming was hardly a good idea at the time. And I didn't believe that Emma would love a man unless she saw good in him, so I refused to judge. (That's not to say that this Neal was getting anywhere near my daughter again, but like I said, I wasn't perfect.)

"I met him six months ago," she said. "At first I thought he was complete idiot, with his stupid charming smile and bad-boy-wannabe attitude."

Oh dear.

"We met when I..." she bit her lip and looked down again.

I took a deep breath. "How about this? From now until we leave this room, you can tell me absolutely anything with no fear of recrimination, and anything you say will stay between us?"

"It's not getting in trouble I'm scared of," she mumbled. "I just don't want to make you any more ashamed of me than you are…" she lowered her voice even more, and said something I almost didn't catch. "Or are going to be."

"I could never be _ashamed _of you, Emma. Disappointed, yes, but we've all made mistakes. Please, just let me in. You've kept me shut out for so long."

When she looked back up it was with new resolve. "I stole his cellphone."

Oh no.

I frowned. "Why would you steal his cellphone?"

She rolled her eyes, but I could tell she wasn't aiming it at me. "It was wrong and stupid, I know. But one of my friends had gotten into some trouble and needed money. Not an excuse, I know. I felt bad about instantly and was going to give it right back when he caught me with it. I panicked and bolted, but he caught me. I just knew he was going to call the cops, but he didn't. Instead we became friends and then…"

"And then more," I guessed, feeling extremely uncomfortable with how eerily similar this story was to another one I knew.

"I lied at first and told him I was eighteen. We didn't start dating until three months ago. It…" she fidgeted uncomfortably and blushed scarlet. "It got…serious…kinda fast."

I'd had my suspicions, but I really, _really_ didn't want to hear her admit it. Yet I kept my cool, determined to let her get it out. "Um…okay. It got serious…go on."

"He wanted to meet you," she said. "He kept telling me that we shouldn't keep us a secret from you. He…he knew what your approval would have meant to me. So then I told him the truth, that I'm not eighteen yet. He was mad at me for lying, but then he decided that we needed to slow way down, wait until after my birthday, and _then_ tell you. We had it all planned out."

As much as I hated to admit it, I wasn't completely and totally hating him anymore. Not _completely_ and _totally_. "So what happened? Why did he steal? Why did you run away?" I was getting anxious, and made myself take a deep breath.

She winced. "You know that cellphone I stole from him? Turned out _he _had already stolen it. He was a good guy making bad decisions. He worked two jobs but could hardly buy groceries, so he stole things to get by. He doesn't have anyone, no family to help him. But he started turning around after he met me. He stopped stealing, was trying to make himself better for me. The warrant out for him is for a case of watches he ripped off years ago. When he showed up at my school last week it was to tell me goodbye, that he was going to Canada. I…I just couldn't imagine never seeing him again…" her voice cracked as tears formed in her eyes. "I got in the car and told him I wanted to go with him. At first he said no, but I wouldn't take it for an answer. So we left."

I swallowed the hurt I felt that she could so easily run away and leave her family behind.

"Where is he now? I…I won't tell, I promise."

She shrugged and then laughed bitterly. "I guess in Canada by now. I thought he loved me, I thought he wanted to marry me. I helped him steal a car for God's sake! But the bastard ditched me at a gas station in Boston."

"_What_?" I exclaimed. "In _Boston?_ He left you there all alone? Why?"

"I don't know," she cried. "One minute we're talking about our future, the next we hear an announcement over the radio with our names and descriptions. We thought no one knew that I was with him, so we thought if he got out of town for a couple of months, changed his name, maybe his appearance, we could come home. I wouldn't have stayed away forever. But it spooked him that they were calling him a 'kidnapper,' so I guess he decided I just wasn't worth the trouble."

"Oh, Emma," I scooted over and put my arms around her. "I'm sorry," I wasn't, really. She started crying harder, verging on hysterics and I was starting to get worried.

"I'm so sorry!"

"I know you are, my love, I know. Everything is going to be okay, it's going to get better."

"No! It won't! It won't get better! I got myself into this mess and now there's no way out!"

I held her tighter. "What are you talking about, Emma? The car you helped steal? Do the police know you were involved in that? Sweetie, Fred can…"

"No, it's not that," she pulled away, looking up at me with terrified eyes, but then she was sobbing again and couldn't get the words out. "I'm not ready, Mama! I don't want this! Not yet!"

I was beginning to cry too. "Emma, what is it? I promise I won't get mad, I'm going to help you, please, whatever it is!"

But then I read something in her eyes and both our gazes looked downward to where her hands pressed against her stomach.

"Mommy…I'm pregnant."


	13. Baby's Having a Baby

**Hey! So I haven't had the chance to answer any of your reviews personally this time around, but don't doubt that I love every single one and they just make me want to update all the faster. :)**

**A couple of you aren't pleased that MM is so fast to forgive Emma for all the crap she's put everyone through, (and yeah, it was a lot of crap!) but while I purposefully wrote MM not being nearly strict enough, at this point I kind of want to come to her defense because while I'm not a mom, I have a phenomenal one and one thing I know about mom is they have a miraculous ability to forgive and forget. Emma apologized and that was all that was necessary for MM. And also, Snow of canon is inherently a very forgiving person. (I mean, at one point she was willing to forgive Regina for murdering her father.) So, that's what I have to say about that. :D**

**And IceTear1 asked about MM's hair (lol that was a funny question, but a good one!) I had actually already come to realization that while I had a picture of what 46-year-old MM looks like in my head, I failed to let y'all in on the evolution of hair! So after she came to this world she cut it to her shoulders and that's where it stayed for a long time, but as she got older her hair got shorter, as many women's do. In the last chapter I mentioned her "short hair," and I meant like a chin length bob as Ginnifer Goodwin has worn before. In this chapter I threw in more about the style of her hair to get her to the version we know and love...only more mature. :D**

**Phew, okay. Now on with the story! Thanks SO much for the reviews and support, you guys rock!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

It was like all the oxygen was sucked from the room in one big whoosh. Or maybe I'd been punched in the gut, I wasn't sure.

I cradled the back of Emma's head and held it against my shoulder so she couldn't see the look on my face. Trouble with the law? I could have had Fred fix that. Injury? I could have kissed it better. Harassment from a man? I could have found a bow somewhere. There were a million things I could make better, fix, but this was not one of them.

My baby was having a baby.

While she cried and shook I just kept thinking about how her life was going to be permanently altered. It wasn't like having children at her age was unheard of where I grew up, but being unmarried and doing so was. In this land it sadly happened quite often, young girls impregnated and abandoned.

But there was one major difference between those other girls and Emma. She would never have to be alone, and I thanked every wishing star in the sky that I'd made it into that damn wardrobe before giving birth. Yes, I was still angry at her for what she'd done. But above that, completely towering over that, was my love for my daughter. Besides, I felt like it was my fault. I was her parent, her mistakes were mine.

"Are you sure?" I asked quietly. "We should take you to the doctor. I think pregnancy tests can be wrong."

She nodded against me. "Okay. But…I feel it. I know I am."

"I know what you mean," I said. "Like you know it in your heart."

"Yeah. What am I gonna do, Mom?"

I pulled back so I could see her face, brushing away the hair that her tears had stuck to her cheeks. "I'll tell you what you're gonna do. You're going to be a mother, Emma. And I'm going to be with you every single step of the way. We're going to do this together."

She smiled wetly. "Really? I can do this?"

"Of course you can. You're a strong, compassionate, loving woman, and any child would be lucky to have you as a mother. And I happen to know a thing or two about being a single mom."

She leaned back into me, slipping her arms around my waist. "And you're fantastic at it."

I chuckled a little self-derisively. "I don't know about that."

"You are, Mom. _I'm _the one who's been a bitch."

"For starters," I reached out and quickly struck her mouth, not really hard enough to hurt, for all that she still recoiled as if it did. "That was for the language. But yeah, you have been."

Emma smirked. "Hey!"

I smiled at first but then grew serious. "This can't happen again, Emma. I love you more than life, and I am going to _be _here for you, no matter what, but babe, you have to meet me halfway. You have to listen to me, obey the rules of this house without threatening to leave, and never," my voice cracked. "_ever _run away like that again. I don't think I could handle it!"

Emma listened to my little speech raptly without trying to interrupt, then threw her arms around my neck. "I won't, I promise. I'm gonna show you."

"Good," I whispered into her hair. "Else I'm going to end up all grey."

Emma chuckled and ruffled my salt-and-pepper, chin-length hair while I grimaced at the action. "Have I ever told you that you'd look really cute with a pixie-cut?"

I reached up to smooth down the mess she'd undoubtedly made. "Think so? Maybe I'll get it cut."

We sat in silence for some time, just holding hands on the edge of her bed, imaginings of an uncertain future no doubt in both our minds.

"Mama?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm so scared."

I released her hand in order to rub her back. "I know, baby. But that's okay too."

* * *

The rest of the family's reactions ranged from Elsa exclaiming that "this is what happens to girls who disobey their mothers," to Fred running out to the shed to pull out the crib so that he could start fixing it up again.

August for his part was livid, and I had to bodily shove him out of the house to go cool off. Both he and Fred were ready to go hunt the "son-of-a-bitch" down, but Emma begged them to forget him.

Emma took it all in stride, and I was proud of her for standing strong in the face of her loved ones' disappointment.

Word of her return and pregnancy spread like wildfire in the close-knit community, most people reacting with "I saw that coming."

Some of the older woman that worked at my school made snide insinuations about my parenting, that "well, I should have watched her better," or "I taught _my_ daughter better than that." I tried to let it all roll over me, knowing that Emma faced far worse, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't sting.

I kept wondering what Charming would think, what he would do. He'd be as furious as August at the bastard who impregnated her, but I think he would have been gentle with Emma. But then, if he'd been around, perhaps this never would have happened.

I took Emma straight to the doctor, and we both were nervous since last time _I _was pregnant, things were handled quite differently. We both stared uncomfortably at the tools the nurse had set out while we waited in the examination room. They looked like torture implements. Emma was holding a brochure and turning an interesting shade of green at whatever it contained.

"What are those things for?" she whispered, pointing to the end of the bed.

"Those are stirrups," I informed her. "For your feet."

"Oh my God," she muttered, clutching her robe together in front of her in a vice grip.

"It's alright," I said, patting her knee. "It's not comfortable, but all women have to go through it eventually."

"Uh…I know," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

I tried not to grin at her uneasiness. "Now, do you want me to leave the room while the doctor examines you or do you want me to stay?"

"Stay!" she exclaimed immediately, face betraying her fear at last. "For the love of all that is holy please don't leave!"

This time I had to chuckle at her dramatics, and pulled my chair over so it was beside her.

The doctor finally came in to find a teenager nearly climbing up the walls in nervousness, but luckily she was patient and even funny, able to calm Emma down.

But then she described what exactly the examination entailed.

Emma blinked once, straight-faced, then uttered a quiet "nope," and made for the door. I jumped up to block her, pointing back to the bed with a no-nonsense look.

Shoulder's slumped, face red as a beet, Emma turned back and cooperated with the doctor.

After being declared healthy, (thank God,) the doctor gave her a sonogram, informing us that Emma was, indeed, ten weeks pregnant.

"How can you tell?" Emma asked, squinting at the black-and-white screen.

The doctor flipped a switch and suddenly the room was filled with a soft thumping sound.

"What's that?"

"That's your baby's heartbeat," the doctor informed happily.

I was as surprised as Emma, and I watched as her eyes widened with understanding. "Heartbeat…" she whispered.

Emma was quiet as we left. I could see the timid astonishment on her face that came with the absolute certainty of carrying life inside her, though she was not particularly thrilled with the knowledge that pelvic exams were about to become a common part of life. As we left I remarked to her that for sex education, all teenage girls should visit the gynecologist. She whole-heartedly agreed.

* * *

A month after she came home, a small brown package arrived for Emma with no return address. I watched as she opened it cautiously and pulled out a set of car keys and a dangling keychain etched with a swan in the middle.

I frowned. "Is there a letter?"

She dug around in the box, but the only other thing inside was a small slip of paper with an address scribbled on it.

"It's the bug," Emma said quietly. "He's giving me the bug."

I raised my eyebrows. "You mean the bug…" I glanced behind me to make sure no one else was around. "That you helped steal?"

She shrugged one shoulder and fingered the swan keychain. "He said before that he was going to get a new VIN number and make it legit."

Despite my misgivings, I gave August and Fred the address and they set out and returned five hours later with a vintage yellow Voltzwagon. Emma or I never told anyone that it was stolen, and though my conscience pestered me about it, knowing that I shouldn't have let her keep it, reporting it would have attracted unwanted legal attention and the brush with the police that Emma had brought was more than enough for my lifetime. Attention meant the possibility of someone finding out that my children and I didn't belong.

So I kept my mouth shut, and reasoned that she deserved _something_ from that jerk.

Emma kept her promise about behaving right and then some. She helped out around the house more than she ever did before; cleaning and cooking and whatever else Elsa thought she could do. And if she wasn't very good at cooking or cleaning, no one complained. Since she no longer wanted to party, her friends lost interest in her, all but Tara, but even she didn't come around very often. According to Emma she was "weirded out" by the pregnancy, as were many of the kids she knew at school.

I didn't mourn the loss of those particular friend of hers, but I hated to see her become a loner again. But then, out of everything, Emma seemed to mind that the least. She claimed to like hanging out with me and August more anyway.

Though it was still hard to bare her feelings, and probably always would be for my stoic daughter, Emma opened up to me again. If anything, we became closer than ever. She came to me for everything, from little questions about pregnancy, to even what she'd been through the past two years.

"Told ya the haircut would look cute," Emma said at the breakfast table one morning.

I ran my hand through my hair, still unused to the sheer lack of it, and looked at my reflection in the toaster. "Are you sure? I don't look like a boy?"

"No way! You look fantastic! I couldn't pull it off, but you totally do."

"I always used to wear it so long," I said, handing Emma her peanut butter, jelly, and BBQ potato chip sandwich, a concoction she'd invented of late and could eat nothing else.

Emma bit into her sandwich with relish. "Well, you're freaking gorgeous no matter what you do, so no worries. I hope I look as good as you when I'm…"

"Old?" I finished for her, quirking an eyebrow.

"Old-_er!_" she corrected, then her voice got softer. "Kinda young to be a grandma, though, huh?"

I snorted. "I'll say!"

Emma picked up a stray potato chip and I watched in confusion as she dipped it in her hot chocolate and ate it. "Are you happy though? I mean, I know this isn't what you wanted, me neither. But are…like, I mean…are you happy?"

I smiled and passed her some more chips because I could tell that she was now going to dunk all of them in her hot chocolate. "It's true, this isn't what I wanted for you, but it happened, and now I'm going to have my very own grandbaby to love and spoil and I couldn't be gladder."

Emma smiled brightly, happier than I've seen her in ages, and looked down at her only barely-swelling tummy. She then looked back up at her plate of chips, thumping her fingers as if resisting. I pushed her mug of chocolate closer to encourage her, and broke into peals of laughter as she gleefully picked up a handful of chips and dropped them into the mug, giggling maniacally.

I got back up to fetch her a spoon and tried to not gag while I watched her eat what would replace her morning cereal for two weeks, at least until she decided that Fruit Loops with chocolate milk instead of white was the most delicious thing ever.

"Did you get cravings?" she asked between bites. "When you were pregnant with me?"

I chuckled. "Nothing like this, I don't think," I gestured at what she was eating. "But for weeks the only thing I could keep down was hot chocolate with cinnamon sprinkled in it. I drank that all through my pregnancy, even forcing your father out of bed in the middle of the night to go make me some. Which he did without protest every time, of course."

Emma's smile faltered for some reason at the mention of her father, which I didn't understand because normally she loved stories of him, but she shook it off. "I guess that's why I grew up obsessed with hot chocolate with cinnamon!"

"That would be why," I agreed. "I also went through a time where all I wanted was fried Chimera."

"Fried _what_?"

My eyes widened and I stammered for an answer. "Indian food."

Emma accepted that and finished her meal, still rubbing her little bump. "You know, I've never cared for babies. I was never that girl who just fawns over them," she looked up at me with worried eyes. "What if I don't like this this one?"

I grinned. "Trust me, the moment you see that precious little face, you'll be head over heels in love. I was the same as you; I never cared much for kids."

"What are you talking about? You love kids."

"Yeah, now. But before…it's not that I didn't _like_ them, I just didn't have a whole lot to do with them. I know how you feel, I was afraid that I wouldn't love you like I should, that I would just be this horrible mother, but then…" my mind went back to that time, when Charming was with me, placing his hand on my giant belly and laughing with joy. "Then I felt you kick for the first time. I knew I loved you then. And then when you were born, I didn't know I was even capable of that much love."

Emma smiled wistfully and rubbed her stomach unconsciously. "Was it hard? Birth, I mean?"

I snorted again. "I won't traumatize you with the details...just yet," she gave me a frightened look. "Relax. Your birth was…special. I didn't have an epidural or anything. We weren't even in a hospital. We were in the woods outside of town. Elsa delivered you."

"Seriously?" she asked, almost disbelievingly.

"Ask her if you don't believe me."

"That's insane! How did I not know this? What on earth were you doing out there?"

I hesitated a moment. "Running."

Emma frowned. "Running? You said before…that something bad happened, that made you have to run. Was it me?"

"Oh, no!" I took her hand and squeezed it. "No, sweetheart. You were a miracle. I ran…to save you."

Emma opened her mouth, no doubt to ask for an elaboration, but the door swung open and Fred and Elsa came inside from where they were gardening in the front yard.

"I'm going to tell you," I said. "Soon, I'll tell you everything. But not yet, okay?"

She didn't look satisfied, but she knew well and good that I wasn't going to tell her until I thought she was ready, so she dropped it. "So, no epidural. That hurt, huh?"

I huffed out a laugh. "Oh yeah, it hurt. They say that once the baby is born, you forget all about the pain. I hate to break it to you, hon, but that's a lie. I remember very well the pain! The truth is…once you were in my arms, the pain was simply worth it."

She smiled. "I like that, it makes sense to me. Thanks, that actually makes me feel better."

"Any time. Now, have thought of names?"

Emma wiggled excitedly. "Yeah! If it's a girl, I was thinking either Madeline…or Cora. I really like the name Cora. I knew a girl…"

"Madeline!" I exclaimed, or squeaked rather. "I like Madeline better!"

"Yeah? How about Cora Madeline? That sounds pretty."

I scooted my chair closer to Emma's and took her shoulders in my hands. "Emma, sweetie, if you love me _at all_, you will never, _ever_ name your child Cora. Or Regina."

Emma gave me an amused, puzzled look. "Well, I don't like Regina at all anyway, but okay, fine. Cora's out."

I breathed a dramatic sigh of relief. "What about if it's a boy?

Emma expression was bittersweet, and she answered softly. "Henry."


	14. Meet Henry

**Hey! I didn't think I'd have time to update this weekend, but I decided to get this one in before I'm out and about for the rest of the weekend. You're welcome. :)**

**I wanted to just put it out there again that I TRIED to keep facts about pregnancy/childbirth accurate, but I have no children and I'm just going on a life spent with my four sisters and their collective 11 pregnancies. (One of those turned out twins!) So please try to excuse any mistakes. **

**Also, I forgot to mention that Emma's pregger craving of peanut butter, jelly, and BBQ chip sandwich happens to be my favorite snack and I highly recommend it. :D **

* * *

In all my years of being a mom, dealing with an emotional, pregnant teen was not something I'd ever thought I'd encounter. It's like her hormones that came from being seventeen mixed with the pregnancy to create something truly malevolent.

I'll admit, in my multiple fantasies of how our family would turn out, I normally imagined that Emma wouldn't find her True Love and start a family of her own until after the curse had broken and we'd gone home. And then I thought perhaps she'd find a nice prince, or knight, or…maybe a stableboy, and get her happily ever after with her mother _and _her father at her side.

Maybe that could still happen, and she'll just have a little one along with her, but everything was different now that we would have child to consider when we began the "final battle." I wanted to tell her, wanted to _so badly_, and she had been acting like she would be receptive to what she knew by now was a hell of a story, but I just didn't know how to _start_.

For the time being at least, August was staying home. After his initial anger, he warmed up to the idea of being an uncle and proved it by coming home triumphantly holding up a tiny little shirt that said, "My Uncle is Cooler Than You." Emma had laughed and draped it across her growing belly.

I was outside one evening, watering the rose plants, while August reclined on the porch swing drawing.

"What do you have there?" I asked him.

"Just finishing up this," he said, showing me a beautiful drawing of Emma, looking down and lovingly holding her belly.

"Oh, Auggie, that's amazing!" I said. "She's going to love it," I turned off the hose and joined him on the porch, sitting beside him. "I've been thinking, August. I think we need to try telling her."

He nodded. "Yeah, we do."

"I want to show her your book. Have you finished it?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "About that…"

I furrowed my brow at him. "What?"

"I don't have it anymore."

"What? Why?"

He put down his sketchpad and methodically put away his pencils before finally answering me. "I sold it."

"You mean…like to a publisher? That's okay, Auggie, I mean everyone in this world will think they're nothing but stories…"

"No, I mean I _sold_ the book, to a collector. I had made it up to look really old, so this guy bought it thinking it was an antique."

I gaped a moment, trying to form a question, I was just so baffled by what he was telling me. "But _why_? Why would you just give away something you've worked _years _on? You made that for Emma."

"I know!" he groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I feel awful. But I needed the money so bad I…"

I stopped him. "Needed money? When? Auggie, if you needed money why didn't you ask me? You know I would have helped you!"

"I know! I know, but you had a lot on your plate with Emma at the time and I guess I got it in my head that I didn't need my mommy to bail me out…and it was all just a mess."

"What happened?"

"I don't wanna talk about it right now."

I bit my lip, worry setting in. "All this Emma drama and I haven't even asked you about Thailand, I'm so sorry, Auggie!"

He held up a hand. "Don't be sorry. Emma is who we both have to focus on. She's the savior. She's more important."

"Don't say that!" I exclaimed, appalled that he would think that. "Don't you ever say that! Emma is my _daughter_, first and foremost, and you are my _son_. You are just as important to me as Emma! Please don't think that your problems don't mean anything just because Emma's having a hard time," I reached up to smooth his hair back like I used to when he was little. "You've always put Emma first."

"That's my job," he said with a shrug.

"No it isn't! I know what your father told you, but your purpose in life isn't to just protect Emma…"

I stopped because he was chuckling. "No, I mean it's my job because she's my little sister!"

I smiled back at him. "Oh, well in that case it is. You're a wonderful big brother, Auggie, and a wonderful son. And soon you're going to be a wonderful uncle too!"

"Thanks, Mama."

"Now, are you going to tell me about Thailand? Meet any nice girls?"

His eyes shimmered mischievously. "A few."

"Oh, heavens. Do tell."

August laughed and launched into a story about a beautiful young girl he met in Bangkok and his fumbling attempts to woo her. I enjoyed his story, but knew that there was something he wasn't telling me, and I mourned the loss of the book.

But I still had the drawing of Charming, and I still had memories, if they weren't as vivid as they once were. Either way, she needed to know the truth.

* * *

I sat with Emma at the doctor's office, a routine she no longer feared. I watched as she poked at her cute, round belly. "These stretch marks'll never go away, will they?" she asked.

"Those are your stripes," I told her. "You're earning them as we speak, see?" I lifted up my blouse to show her the white zigzags on my side. "These are my badges of honor and I'm proud to where 'em!"

Emma grinned widely at me just as the doctor walked in.

"Comparing stretch marks?" the doctor said happily as I readjusted my shirt.

"Badges of honor!" Emma corrected.

The doctor laughed and agreed, then proceeded to get Emma ready for her sonogram.

Emma was paying more attention to the cold gloop on her belly than the screen until I gasped, making her turn.

The baby was in perfect profile, one little hand raised above the button nose, tiny fingers wiggling.

"That…that's my baby…" Emma whispered, staring in awe.

"That's your baby," the doctor said.

"But…it was just a little blur last time!"

"Mmhm, we couldn't get a good view last time, but the little one here has grown and wants a picture taken!"

I took Emma's hand and gaped at the screen. I knew of sonograms, of course, but obviously I never got the chance to see Emma before she was born. It was incredible.

"So," the doctor said, grinning. "Would you like to know if it's a girl or a boy?"

"You can tell now?" I asked.

She nodded. "Sure can. We're lined up very nicely."

"Do I?" Emma asked, looking to me, and I was sent back to another time and place, a pendant dangling over my hand and the indescribable joy that came with knowing.

"I think we do," I said, winking.

Emma nodded at the doctor.

"What names did you have picked out again?" the doctor asked, getting ready to print the picture.

Emma was still enraptured by the black-and-white image of her baby, so I answered for her. "Madeline for a girl, Henry for a boy."

The doctor printed out a picture and handed it to Emma with an ear-to-ear smile.

Emma looked down at the picture and instantly began to cry. (Not an uncommon event at that point in time.) I leaned over her shoulder anxiously, and tears came to my eyes too when I saw the little face accompanied by the text,

"Meet Henry!"

* * *

Elsa and Fred were overjoyed to learn that they were having a "great-grandson," and began happily going through their son's old things to see if they had anything for the new baby. I couldn't resist calling up Jim (and Emily) in order to brag.

While most everyone else had reacted to Emma's pregnancy with either disdain or pity, Jim and Emily picked right up on our desire to be happy about it. Jim was able to shoot back that his son's wife was expecting another baby too.

"Aw, young little MayMay is gonna be a granny," he said, a smirk in his voice.

"I am no one's granny," I informed him. "I'm a…well, I don't know yet. But I'm not a granny!"

I went upstairs to Emma's room, bringing up some itty bitty boots that Elsa had found to show her, and found her propped up by her pillows on her bed, curled up around her belly.

"Everything okay?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she said quietly, unconvincingly.

"You've been quiet," I said, moving to sit beside her. "Ever since your last doctor's appointment."

She shrugged, but then looked up at me sharply, and I could actually see in her eyes her resolve not to shut me out. "I tried calling him."

"Who?"

"Neal."

My eyes widened. "You what? Emma…"

"I just thought he should know!" she said, uncurling herself from her fetal position. "This is his baby too, I just thought he should know."

I bit my lip and gritted my teeth. "Emma, you should have talked to me about this. Yes, this is his baby, but he's a criminal and he abandoned you. I don't think we want him around."

"Yeah," Emma said, and I was surprised she agreed so easily. "You're probably right, and it doesn't matter anyway because he's dropped off the face of the earth. I just got to thinking about him…about the baby, I mean. Henry isn't going to have a father."

I sighed, realizing what this was about. "He'll have Fred, and August."

"I know, and I'm glad. But…but it's just not the same…as having a dad."

I shifted until I was next to her, leaning against the pillows, and she rested her head against my shoulder. "I guess you're right."

"It's not that I don't love Auggie and Grampa," Emma was quick to specify. "And you did great on your own. I just…" she looked up at me. "Did he ever really want me?"

"Oh, Emma," I twisted so that I could cradle her face in my hands. "Of _course_ he did! Baby, haven't I told you how much he loved you, even before you were born?"

"Yeah, you did. You say that, you say that he loved you, and you love him. But why didn't he come looking for us? Wouldn't it have been easier to tell me he died?"

"He didn't die," I told her. "He's still alive."

"Then _where_? What makes you think he hasn't started a new family with someone else by now?"

She couldn't know how much that felt like a punch to the gut. "He hasn't. He promised he'd wait."

"For _what_, Mom? That doesn't make any sense! What did you run away from?"

"My stepmother," I said after a moment's hesitation. "My stepmother hated me because she said I ruined her life."

Emma frowned. "Did you?"

I blinked and stared straight ahead. "Yes."

Emma opened her mouth but all that came out was a loud gasp.

"What? What is it?" I asked.

Emma's eyes were wide, and she snatched up my hand and held it against her belly. For a moment I didn't feel anything, but then I did and my eyes widened too.

"He's kicking!" I exclaimed.

"I'll say!" she breathed. "Ow! Jeez, kid, careful!"

I laughed, not having been so amazed by the movement of a child since Emma first kicked me. We sat there while Henry kicked and kicked, loving every moment. (I perhaps more than Emma since he seemed to be playing kickball with her ribs.) And for the moment we both forgot all about our earlier conversation.

* * *

"Who do you think the baby will take after?" I asked, looking down at the mountain my belly had become.

"I don't know," Charming said from where he was cleaning his sword in the corner. "Who _he _will take after."

I smirked up at him. It was a game we were playing, he trying to make me slip and reveal the baby's gender.

"She?" he asked innocently.

I rolled my eyes. "I mean, will the baby have my hair or yours? My skin or yours? My eyes…"

Charming put his sword away and stretched out on the bed beside me, kissing my belly lovingly and possessively. "He or she…or he will be the perfect mix of the two of us. Maybe he'll have your black hair, and my blue eyes. Or maybe my blonde hair and your green eyes. Whichever, I just hope he has your spirit and kindness."

"And your strength and bravery!" I agreed.

Charming scooted up until his face was near mine. "If it _is _a girl, I hope she's just like you. A wild child with more mischievousness, cleverness, and humor in one finger than everyone else has altogether."

I leaned in to kiss him, but met nothing but air. "Charming?"

He was there, sitting before me, but he was blurry. I realized that through the entire conversation, I had yet to look into his face, and now that I was, I couldn't quite make it out. In fact everything was blurry. Wasn't our bedroom window on the other side?

"Don't forget," Charming whispered. "Don't forget."

"How could I?" I asked.

Charming got up and walked away, and I called out after him, begging him to return. I reached out my hand, as I could touch him, but recoiled when I heard a laugh that made my insides turn to ice.

"You will never find happiness!"

* * *

With a cry I shot up in bed, panting and sweating, still hearing Regina's voice in my mind, so loud that it took me a minute to realize someone was calling me. And then my heart raced for an entirely new reason.

"MOM!"

I jumped out of bed, terrified of the tone in Emma's voice, and beat August there by a second.

"Emma? What is it?" I asked, hurrying to her side.

"I don't know! I just woke up and my bed is soaked!" she cried.

My heart fluttered and I reached for her hands, trying to remain calm. "It's okay, sweetie, your water broke! We're going to get you to the hospital, did you get your bag packed?"

I turned to look for her backpack that the doctor had suggested she keep ready when her weak, frightened voice made me stop. "Mommy…"

I turned and found her staring at her bed in horror. There was blood, and quite a bit.

"Oh shit," August hissed, paling at the sight of the blood.

"August," I said, using my "teacher voice" to get his attention. "Go wake up Granma and Grampa and the get the car ready," when August didn't budge, I snapped at him. "August! Go!"

After he finally spurred into motion I turned back to Emma who was shaking uncontrollably. "It's too early! I'm not due!"

I felt panic rising up inside me, but I resolutely forced it back for Emma's sake, and kept my cool. "Everything is going to be fine, sweetheart. Henry's just anxious to meet us!"

We were all dressed and ready to go in record time, though I was barely able to leave Emma's side long enough to put decent clothes on. We piled into my SUV and this time I won the battle with August for my keys, (mainly because he was still shaken from the blood. Men.) And I got us to the hospital, which we'd timed at one hour away, in less than half that.

Emma was having contractions by the time we reached the hospital, and nurses rushed to her as soon as we walked through the doors to whisk her away. For a horrifying moment I thought that they were going to make me wait outside, but when Emma screamed for her mother I was bustled into the room right with her.

"I'm scared!" she cried, breathing heavily.

"Don't be scared, Emma," I said, trying to convey all of the calm I didn't feel. "I'm right here, my love. You're going to be just fine."

We'd called Emma's doctor before we left the house, but beat her there. By the time Emma was set up in a room she arrived, breezing in with her usual cheerful demeanor, (which at that moment was far from amusing,) and examined Emma straight away.

"Woo, baby, you're progressing fast! First time and everything!"

"It's early!" Emma cried. "Is he going to be okay?"

"There was blood when her water broke," I told the doctor, gripping Emma's hand.

"I wouldn't worry about that," she said, looking at the baby in the sonogram the nurses had already set up. "That happens occasionally. He's in the right position, but you're dilating fast. I think you're going to be ready for the delivery room before you know it! I do believe we're bringing a baby into the world tonight!"

Emma progressed so rapidly that it was too late for an epidural, meaning she had to give birth the same way I did. Naturally. When they took her to the delivery room she was screaming in agony.

"Time to push, Mama!" the doctor proclaimed. "Ready?"

"NO!" Emma screamed.

"Breath, Emma," I said as soothingly as I could, though my heart was tearing in two. "You can do this!"

"I can't!" she wailed. "It hurts too much!"

She squeezed my hand until I thought it could actually break, thought I didn't even think of pulling away. "You can, Emma! You can do anything!"

"Mommy…"

I kissed her head and leaned close to her ear so only she could hear. "You're strong, Emma. You are a princess. You have heroism in your blood. And you are _my _daughter. The daughter of a warrior. You are going to do great and wonderful things someday. You're going to save everyone. But today, you're going to bring your son into this world."

After what felt like forever and no time at all, Emma let out one last weakened scream and the doctor was announcing the arrival of Henry Swan.

Emma slumped into the mattress, completely drained and only semi-conscious, and I laughed in joy and relief…until I realized that I hadn't heard Henry cry yet.

The doctors and nurses had the baby on a table under a bright light, working furiously around him, but other than their low voices, all was silent.

"What's happening?" I demanded. "Why isn't he crying?"

"Mom?" Emma whimpered. "What's wrong? Is he okay?"

Before I could speak, Henry was being swept from the room in a flurry of activity. "Where are you taking him?!" Emma cried. "Mom, where are they taking my baby?!"

One of the nurses who'd stayed behind gave my daughter a sympathetic look that I could have slapped right off of her just then. "The baby wasn't breathing properly. They're taking him to NICU, where he'll be in the best of hands. As soon as we have information, we'll let you know straight away."

Suddenly it felt like _I _wasn't breathing properly. I turned to Emma to find her white as a sheet. "Is he going to die?" she asked me desperately.

"Of course not!" I told her, stroking her sweat-soaked hair. "He isn't going to die. The doctors will take good care of him."

I held my daughter as she cried, only hoping that I was right.


	15. Baby in the House

**I'm back! I hope everyone's having a nice holiday weekend! (Where such holiday applies.)**

**Has everyone seen the new season 3 promo? Le gasp! I know most people are bugging out over badass Emma, but I for one and most interested about what Snow and David found so fascinating about that sword...hmm... (also, I love the fact that it was Snow who was the one holding it. Did they're faces look kind of, "holy crap it's Excalibur" to you or is it just me? I'm smelling the return of Lancelot!) it's not long now, folks! **

**tate4eva asked about a chapter from Emma's POV. While this story is primarily about Snow, there IS at least one chapter ahead from Emma's POV, but not until after she reaches adulthood. :)**

**Since the last chapter ended on drama, I made sure to end this with...DRAMA! No, kidding, there's fluff ahead. :D Only a few more chapters until I take our heroes on into Storybrooke! Looking forward? Enjoy!**

* * *

After Emma was cleaned up, she was taken to a normal hospital room, (and if I wasn't mistaken, I'm pretty sure it was the same one I was in nearly eighteen years ago,) and the rest of the family was allowed in.

We waited in petrified silence for some word from the doctors, all checking the clock obsessively. Emma hadn't released her hold on me in some way or another since the birth, and at the moment had both arms wrapped around one of mine while my hand patted a soothing rhythm on her thigh. I knew there was nothing I could say to her that would ease her fear, so I settled for just being close.

Fred tried sweetly to come up with encouraging words, but I think even he knew how flat they fell. August wouldn't stop pacing until Elsa hissed that it was raking on her nerves.

Yet I just kept feeling immensely grateful that we were all there. Never before had it really occurred to me just how close Emma came to not having me with her during this time. Granted, I had no clue how her life would have turned out, and I hoped that August at least would have stayed with her, but I had a disturbing feeling that had I gone into labor any sooner…

When Emma's doctor came in, all five of us nearly collapsed in relief from the look on her face alone.

"Henry is going to be just fine," she said with a smile.

I released the breath I hadn't realized that I was holding, while Fred and Elsa began murmuring prayers of thanks, and Emma sobbed and laughed at the same time. "Can I see him?"

"We have in an incubator for now. It probably won't be for long, but we just want to watch him extra carefully."

"Why wasn't he breathing right?" I asked.

"His lungs are still slightly underdeveloped. We have him on oxygen, and he seems to be doing fine now. We're going to need to keep him here for at least a week though, until we know he's strong enough. A nurse should be here any second with a wheelchair to take you to see him, okay, Mom?"

I looked at Emma and saw her blink up at me in dazed confusion. "That's you, Mommy," I whispered, nudging her with my shoulder.

Emma broke into a shy smile and nodded enthusiastically.

* * *

I held Emma's hand as I walked beside her chair to the NICU. When we turned the corner into the room, the first thing I became aware of was the clear box that held a tiny form. I missed a step and hesitated at the entrance, Emma's hand slipping from mine, and I was uncomfortably reminded of a clear box I'd been kept in – a lifetime ago. I shook myself and continued to move into the room.

Emma hadn't even noticed that I left her side, thought I don't think she was aware of anything at that point except the impossibly small baby. She slowly raised her right hand and slipped it through a hole on the side of the box and gently, hesitatingly, touched his little arm.

Prying my eyes away from my enraptured daughter, I took my first good look at my grandson, the most perfect baby boy I'd ever laid eyes on. He was so tiny, smaller than Emma had been, with unblemished, pale skin and a mop of dark hair on his head.

There was a second hole next to the one Emma was reaching through, so I mimicked her motion of carefully stroking his soft, almost translucent skin with my fingertip. I could see Emma easily in his beautiful face; her nose, her cheeks, her chin – my chin.

I looked back at Emma, and saw her teary eyes filled with all the love and wonder that I felt the first moment I saw her. It made my heart swell with an entirely new kind of pride. Here was my little girl, no longer a girl at all but a woman with a child of her own. And never had I seen her more beautiful, more radiant.

I thought of Charming then, and I mourned his absence more than ever. He should have been there, puffing up in pride at the sight of his new grandson. When the curse broke – and I knew it would someday – he was going to be devastated to know that not only had be missed his daughter's entire childhood, but so much of his grandson's as well.

As if reading my thoughts, Emma spoke softly, "Do you think he'd be happy?"

"Who, sweetie?"

"My…father."

I paused, surprised she'd think to ask about him in that moment. I wondered if she was going to mention any of the things I said to her during labor, but then my own memories of labor were choppy at best, and things like words were quickly forgotten in the face of pain and then joy. "I was just thinking of him. He would be over the moon, Emma. He'd be standing here right now, thinking of all the things he would teach him. Horseback riding, sword fighting…"

Emma snorted. "Sword fighting?"

I shrugged.

"Was his name really David?"

I took my eyes away from Henry again to gape at her, though she was still looking at her miracle. "How…"

"I found my birth certificate," she said simply. "I don't know why you never told me. David Shepherd," she said the name almost wistfully. "I used to think that his name was Swan. I mean, I know Grampa and Granma aren't _your _real parents, but I thought maybe they were _his_."

"No," I said, kind of sadly. "They're not."

"We're not related to them at all, are we?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "No one is supposed to know it…but no."

She looked up at me and frowned, processing the information, and I could see that she was going to ask for more information about that at a later date. "So David…that was his name?"

"Yes," I said. "His name is David."

Emma sighed and ran her finger lovingly over Henry's fuzzy little head. "Then meet Henry David Swan."

My jaw must have hit the floor, and I almost didn't believe what I'd heard. "Really?" I asked, tears forming in my eyes.

She shrugged. "Don't get too emotional. I happen to think it sounds nice."

"It does sound nice," I agreed, and tickled Henry's itty bitty foot. "Hello, Henry David," we giggled when his face scrunched up in response.

* * *

If Emma's face was full of wonder the first time she _saw_ Henry, it was almost slipping into terror the first time she held him.

"He's so small," she whimpered, set up in a rocking chair in the corner of Henry's hospital room. "Oh damn it, I'm gonna break him!"

I chuckled. "You're not going to break him," I scolded playfully. "He isn't made of glass."

But Emma still didn't look comfortable, and when the nurse got ready to instruct her how to feed him, she was almost shaking. "I don't think I can do this."

I opted not to say anything, just to let her find out for herself. And after a couple trials and errors, Henry was feeding contently and I watched Emma's face melt into awe.

"Wow…"she whispered. "Holy crap, Mom, look! He's eating!"

I grinned and leaned forward, taking his little hand. "That he is. Good job, Mommy."

"This…um…this is weird…it um…oh, _ow_…ow! It hurts! I didn't know it would hurt!"

I reached up to stroke her hair, hushing her before she could panic and upset the baby. "Yes, it will at first, but it gets better. Trust me, baby, it's worth it."

She looked back down and smiled softly. "You know, you were right."

"I do know," I said cheekily before asking for elaboration. "About what, exactly?"

"I didn't know I could love this much."

* * *

Emma and Henry were released and sent home two weeks later, on Emma's eighteenth birthday.

August had bought a onesie with a picture of a cupcake topped with a blue, star-shaped candle on it to dress Henry in, and he placed a blue gift bow on his head, declaring Henry Emma's birthday present.

I presented Emma with the blanket I had been knitting for months, with Elsa's extensive help. It was white like hers, only with green ribbon, and I hand stitched his name in the corner to look just like hers. Of course, it wasn't as well made as Emma's, because Granny was an amazing knitter and I was not, but Emma's enthusiastic response and tear-filled eyes made it worth it.

Fred and Elsa had decorated the living room and kitchen in blue streamers and balloons. Emily brought over a banner that my class had made with their substitute teacher that read, "Welcome Home, Henry!" in big, glittery letters. And Janice was there with her girls, as was Tara, all eager to welcome Emma and her son home.

"Since Henry beat us to his shower, we have a bit of an impromptu one here," Elsa said.

"Slash welcome home party, slash birthday party," August dead-panned.

Emma was boiling over with giddiness, but all the attention on her made her shy, like normal, though she didn't protest to the countless photos Fred and I both took with our respective cameras.

Janice was the first to be introduced, Emma walking straight to her and presenting her son proudly.

Janice took Henry in her arms with a bittersweet smile. "Your namesake would just love you," she whispered.

Tara declined offers to hold Henry, though she seemed rather taken with him. August managed to get him at one point and began regaling him with all the things he would teach him.

"And I'll teach you how to carve wood, and how to draw, and how to pee your name into the snow…"

"August!" I admonished.

"Sorry," he amended calmly. "No peeing on Snow. Pee on the frozen white stuff that falls from the sky in winter."

If he hadn't been holding my grandson, I would have thrown something at him. As it was my eyes bespoke vengeance, and August backed away slowly.

"I don't get it," Emma said, and apparently everyone heard the exchange because there were puzzled looks all around. Except for Elsa, who oddly enough was shaking her head with an amused chuckle. But then, she did know what August once called me.

"Never mind," I said.

"I used to be so mad that he and Henry could do stuff like that and I couldn't," Emma groused playfully. "I used to think, no fair! Those things are more fun."

"Well…" Tara began.

"Who's up for cake?" Elsa asked loudly, effectively ending _that _line of conversation.

She brought in Emma's favorite chocolate cake, the frosted letters spelling out, "Happy Birthday Emma and Henry," with eighteen candles.

"Make a wish," I told her.

Emma took Henry from August and cradled him to her chest, kissing him on his head before taking a deep breath and blowing out all her candles.

* * *

While Elsa had told me that I took to motherhood like a fish to water, Emma took to it more like a fish to Jell-O. That she loved the baby was never in question, neither was that she was trying, but she was easily frustrated when she couldn't quiet his cries and being the bundle of nerves that she was caused Henry to cry all the more.

Unfortunately, we were all pretty on edge with the new baby in the house. While Emma had been a fantastically good baby, Henry was fussy and often sick, leading many a long night. I had taken to getting up with him each night to give Emma the opportunity to sleep, which really just resulted in two women in the house barely sleeping at all. I felt glad that Fred and Elsa's room was far enough away that so long as we kept doors shut his cries didn't bother them.

Emma and I both were almost falling into our bowls of cereal one morning while Elsa bounced Henry in her arms, singing to him softly.

August strolled in merrily, having found the path to a decent night's sleep in the form of headphones. His mere happiness displeased me.

"Morning," he chirped and plopped down, entirely too cheerfully, next to me. "Cleared the rest of my stuff out of my old room."

"Shut up," Emma snapped which he ignored.

"You know, you don't have to take _all _your things out of your room, this is still your home too. And I just wish you'd spend more time _in _it!" I was trying not to whine, but dammit, I was tired.

"You need the room for Henry," he reasoned. "Besides, if I ever do decide to settle down anywhere, I'm well old enough for a place of my own. One where, you know, I can get some sleep!"

Being the entirely responsible and mature middle-aged woman that I was, I wouldn't have dreamed of doing anything as childish as flinging wet cereal at my son. But dammit, I was tired, so I did it anyway.

"Mom!" August leapt up, laughing, though shocked.

Emma laughed as well. "Serves you right for leaving us!"

August ruffled her hair, making her scowl and growl at him. "See if I bring either of you anything from my trip to Paris next month!"

"I still don't understand why you have to move out now," I said. "Why not stay until your trip."

"My buddy, Dan, has the space," he said. "And he's been looking for a roommate to help out with the rent."

"Yeah," Emma mumbled, still glaring at him. "Hard to bring girls home with you mom, grandparents, little sister and a baby in the house, huh?"

I raised my eyebrows. "What's this about bringing girls home?"

August rolled his eyes. "Thanks for that, twerp."

"Dork," Emma shot back.

"August, I don't want another grandchild just yet!" I wailed.

He turned beet red. "Mom! You know I'm not like that!"

"Children, children," Elsa said in mock condescension. "Don't make me separate you all!"

We all bowed our heads like good children and mumbled our apologies before dissolving into fits of exhausted laughter.

"Hush!" Elsa stage-whispered. "He's just gone to sleep!"

We were silent instantly, not a soul in the house willing to risk waking Henry.

"Seriously now," I continued quietly. "Are you still seeing that cute redhead from Portland, Auggie?"

"No," he said, somewhat sadly. "That didn't work out."

"Aw," Emma said. "I liked her."

He shrugged. "Wasn't meant to be."

My heart went out to August. He rarely dated, even though he had just about every single girl in the county falling over themselves for him, and probably many more on his travels. But every time he met a girl he liked, he would up pushing her away or just flat-out dumping her. He wasn't trying to be cruel, but told me one evening that he didn't think it was fair to a girl to let her give him her hear when he could never even tell her his real name.

I had reasoned that August _was _his real name now, but he had just sat down, dejected, saying that he could never marry anyone without her knowing who and what he really was. And how do you tell a woman that you born a wooden puppet?

The only thing I could think of to say that would comfort him at all was that one day, the curse would break, and we'd all go home, and he could find his True Love there, where he could be completely honest and she would love him for who – and what – he was.

I thought of that conversation as I watched my children bicker at the breakfast table. Henry woke, and Emma picked him up tiredly but adoringly and fixed him up under his blanket to feed. I smiled at the sight, as did August.

Suddenly the thought of that – of going back – felt…frightening. Though I'd never _not_ miss my husband and my friends, I liked my life. It was far simpler than the one I lived before, drama filled at times, yes, but when you'd spent half your life in fear of death by step-mother no amount of drama could compare. I loved teaching, I loved Maine. If I was living a stranger's life, I no longer minded. I could no longer imagine life without Fred and Elsa, or without August as my son.

For the first time, the certainty I had about the curse faltered. If there was to be a battle, there was so much to lose. And 'home,' with its ogres and dangers and evil queens, sounded like a scary place I'd rather not visit.

And that worried me. Because there were things I was forgetting that I wanted to remember, and there were things that I was letting go that I could no longer bring myself to care about.

Only ten more years.

And the Savior still didn't know.


	16. Henry the Naked Baby Superhero

**Hello readers! Sorry, this is sort of a tease! I wrote this little scene, but it didn't fit in with chapter 16, and I didn't really want to scrub it, so I decided just to go ahead and post it as is. But don't you want a tiny bit of baby Henry? Huh? Well, you're getting it anyway, lol. The next REAL chapter will be up soon, shall I post it tonight or tomorrow? :)**

**Without further ado...**

* * *

As I muscled through the front door, my arms full of bags of groceries, I heard quite a commotion coming from somewhere in the back of the house.

Shaking my head with a smile, I made my way to the kitchen to put down the groceries. "Welcome home," I murmured amusedly to myself, wincing when I thought I heard something break.

No sooner than I could dump the plastic bags on the table, I was reaching out to catch a flying ball of two-year-old boy, dressed to the nines in a Superman cape, a Batman mask…and nothing else.

"Well hello to you, too," I laughed, pressing a kiss to Henry's freshly washed hair and attempting to keep my hold on the squirming, naked baby.

"Henry!" Emma yelled exasperatedly. "Henry, come back!"

Henry wiggled out of my arms and ducked under the table to hide, giggling all the while.

Emma appeared in the archway leading to the kitchen looking frazzled and at her wit's end. She was soaked from head to toe, and her hair was sticking up so much that it looked like she stuck her finger in an electrical outlet.

"How was bath time?" I asked cheerfully.

Emma shot me a glare. "Where is the little exhibitionist terror?" she growled.

"Rough day?"

Emma groaned and plopped down at the kitchen table, unknowing that Henry was peeking up at her gleefully from beneath the tablecloth. "I haven't been able to keep _clothes _on him _all day_! I sent him out to the garden with Elsa this afternoon in the shorts I managed to wrangle on to him, and he came back inside wearing nothing but dirt! I was _going_ to take him to the park today," she said that loud enough for Henry to hear. "But he wouldn't keep his clothes on! And then he was a nightmare in his bath and…" she dropped her head until it landed on her folded arms on the table. "And I need a nap."

"Aww," I said, rubbing her back while trying not to laugh at her plight. "He's going through a phase, all kids do. I remember when you were about his age and decided that getting rid of diapers meant getting rid of everything. Come here, Henry!"

Henry crawled out from under the table while Emma frowned at the revelation that he was there, and let me scoop him back up.

"What do you say you and me go find some cool clothes to wear, huh?"

"No!" he cried.

"No? You just want to be naked and free?"

"No!"

I chuckled. "How 'bout this? You can keep the cape and mask, and if you come downstairs for dinner wearing pajamas, then Nana will make you macaroni and cheese?"

Henry sighed as I let him down. "Ohh-kaaay…" the boy could say no more easily say no to macaroni and cheese than Emma could say no to hot cocoa.

"But first, give your mommy a great, big, naked-superhero hug! I think she could use the pick-me-up."

Henry seemed pleased with that part of the bargain, and ran with his arms outstretched for Emma, who, exhausted and annoyed as she was, eagerly gathered him up in her arms and showered his little face with kisses.

"I love you, Mommy!"

Emma gasped, and looked up at me with astonished eyes that were quickly filling up with tears. "He's never said that before!"

I grinned, remembering well the feeling of hearing those words for the first time coming from my baby as Emma allowed Henry to abandon his promise of clothing in favor of cuddles and kisses and a sneaked cookie that I pretended not to notice.

He wore no clothes to dinner that night, save of course for his cape and mask, but no one mentioned the little nudist at the table. During his bedtime routine of kisses all around, a story by Nana, and tucking in by Mommy, he told everyone that he loved them.

And the next day Fred brought home a full Batman costume, and Henry finally agreed to wear clothes.


	17. Fifty and Fabulous

**Tada! Because y'all asked so nicely! I'm glad you liked my baby Henry scene! I'm thinking of writing some various one-shots that take place during Henry, Emma and August's childhoods and posting them as extras. :D Would you be interested in those?**

**There's a cameo from two certain characters from another Disney show that I couldn't resist tossing in here. Hehe. :)**

* * *

"And…who can tell me what this letter is?"

Two dozen little hands shot up around the classroom. This year, instead of my usual third or fourth grade class, I'd been asked to teach kindergarten as experienced teachers were on short supply that year. It was a fun change of pace, and I was thrilled. The main reason being that I could spend my days at work with one of my favorite guys in the world.

"Yes, Henry?" I asked, an indulgent smile spreading involuntarily across my face.

"That's a C!" he exclaimed proudly.

"And what is a word that starts with the letter C, Henry?"

Henry gave it some thought, tapping his chin with his forefinger, while impatient students around him helped by whispering things like, "cat," "cow," and "candy." I knew Henry well though, and knew he'd never settle for the obvious.

I was putting my proverbial money on "candelabra," since Beauty and the Beast was currently his favorite movie, but once again the five-year-old surprised me.

"Chimera!" he yelled, earning him some confused looks from his classmates.

"A what?" his friend and seat-neighbor, Phineas, asked.

"Chimera…it _does_ start with a C, right, Ms. Swan?" the little boy had taken it upon himself on the first day of school to keep things professional in the classroom and call me Ms. Swan, instead of Nana like anytime else.

"You're absolutely right," I said, not bothering to hide how impressed I was.

"It's a creature from a fairytale," Henry explained to his friend. "Part lion, part snake, part goat. Right, Ms. Swan?"

"Right."

"Cool!" Phineas said. "I wouldn't mind seeing one of those!" he turned to his brother who sat on his other side. "Wouldn't you, Ferb?"

The quiet boy only blinked, which like usual was enough to satisfy his outgoing brother. "Ferb wants to see one too!"

"Me too!" Henry enthused.

Where Emma had liked fairytales as a young child, Henry was borderline obsessed with them. He could listen to me or August tell him tales or read him stories for hours. Emma would smile and comment on all of our over-active imaginations.

Every time I tried to talk to her, to tell her about the curse, something would interrupt us, or I couldn't find the words. And when I tried to talk to August about it, on the rare occasions that he was home, he just sort of brushed it off, like he no longer cared, or didn't want to think about it anymore.

Truth was, my heart just wasn't in it anymore either. It wasn't that I didn't still want to see my family and save my people, but their memory faded more and more every year, until it was like remembering a dream. I wanted Charming back, but my family, the one in front of me, was simply my priority.

The things I was forgetting sometimes worried me, however. If Disney hadn't cemented the Dwarfs' names into this culture, I probably would have forgotten some of them. Things about people that modern culture didn't know about was slipping completely, like what Granny looked like, or the names of my knights.

Some mornings I would wake up, and not even remember that Mary Margaret Swan wasn't my real name.

Those mornings, when I would remember who I was and realize that I couldn't quite bring Charming's face into my mind, I would tear after my drawing of him and stare at the illustration until it was once again burned into my mind.

I had known, way back when the curse was cast, that I would be fifty-six years old, and Charming only a year and a half younger, when we were finally reunited. And as I approached my fiftieth birthday, I didn't feel old, but all of the years lost still made me ache.

One thing that had been in my mind of late was, when Emma did turn twenty-eight…then what? Rumplestiltskin hadn't been very specific. Would the curse just instantly break and we'd be sent back? I thought of the possibility of suddenly disappearing off the face of the planet, and Elsa and Fred, along with everyone else, would never know what happened to us. And, oh God, would Henry come with us? Or, because he wasn't from our land, would he be left behind?

I loved Charming. But I would prefer never to go back over leaving my grandson behind.

* * *

"Mommy!" Henry yelled, barreling through the house when we got home from school.

"Hey, kid," Emma laughed, picking him up and swinging him around until he was squealing. "How was school today?"

"Great," he replied, and once his feet hit the ground he was headed for the kitchen, where Elsa would have his afternoon snack waiting like always. Though in their eighties, both Fred and Elsa were in excellent shape and as spry as ever.

"Hey, Mom," Emma greeted tiredly.

"Hi, sweetie, how was work?"

Emma groaned, flopping on to the sofa. "Exhausting! Being a rooky is hard! And I have graveyard shift for the rest of the week!"

Emma had recently graduated from Police Academy, following in her adopted grandfather's footsteps, much to his joy. With his recommendation, she'd gotten a position in Augusta right away, and was able to skip over security guard or meter maid and go right into police work, but she still had to climb up the ladder and was toughing it out as the new kid. I had my reservations about her taking on such a dangerous job, but Emma didn't do well behind desks, and relished the idea of taking down "bad guys." Being a hero was simply in her blood.

I patted her back sympathetically. "Keep your chin up, things will get easier. Henry!" I called. "Show Mommy what you made today!"

Henry ran back into the living room, a big sheet of construction paper waving in his hand.

"What is it?" Emma asked with a small chuckle, looking down at the drawing.

"C for Chimera!" he announced proudly.

"It's an awesome drawing," she said sincerely. "But what in the world is a Chimera?" when Henry explained what it was, she quirked an eyebrow. "Like TurDuckIn?" Henry laughed at her and took the picture back. "Tell Granma to hang it on the fridge!" she called to his retreating back. "C for Chimera?" she asked me with an amused grin.

I shrugged. "The other kids drew cats, Henry drew a Chimera. He's a very imaginative little boy."

Emma nodded in agreement, then leaned into me suddenly. Before I could get worried, she was muttering about her day, about being bossed around and ordered to get coffee.

I wiggled into a more comfortable position as Emma's head dropped into my lap, and I stroked her long beautiful hair while she told me about her day. Like it was more and more often of late, making Emma believe seemed less and less important. Less important than hearing about her day, less important than pulling Henry into a big group hug full of messy kisses when he came darting back into the room, cookie in hand.

I was lost in thought and realized I hadn't heard the last thing Emma had asked me. "What was that?" I said, jarring myself.

Emma chuckled. "Earth to Mom. I was asking where you wanna eat for your birthday. I'm taking you to lunch and to the spa, remember?"

"Wherever you want to take me is fine by me," I said. "Surprise me."

"Hey," Henry whined. "You're not supposed to know about the s…" he didn't get to finish because Emma was covering his mouth in a semi-chokehold.

"Ignore him," she laughed nervously.

I shook my head but didn't press, already having figured that they had something up their sleeve.

* * *

My afternoon with Emma was wonderful. She took me to this adorable English tea room in Augusta, (she was uncomfortable in the cutsie, flowery setting, and in the dress she that was wearing, but it was all because she knew I'd like it and I was touched.) And afterward we were both treated to facials, massages and pedicures at the spa. It was a present from the whole family, and it was bliss.

"You know," Emma said as we were getting our pedicures. "Last week I scoffed at the idea of all this prissy primping, but this is not half bad."

I chuckled. "How on earth did I raise such a tomboy?"

"By giving me an older brother and allowing my best friend to be a boy."

"Nah, I think you'd be you no matter what. You are Emma, through and through."

"I'll take that as a compliment. How did you turn out so girly? Didn't you say you were raised by your single dad?"

"I said my mother died when I was young, I was raised by nannies. And each of them was determined to make a lady out of me."

She turned her head to look at me. "How old were you when your mom died?"

"Young…" I said, trying to remember. "I can't remember exactly how old. She died two days before my birthday."

Emma's eyes widened. "She did? I didn't know that…"

"It's okay," I smiled at her. "For years I didn't even celebrate my birthday. Your father had to accept that, though he always tried to do something special, however small. But after you were born, well, my priorities shifted and I wasn't about to tell my baby that I didn't want a birthday. And in truth, that made it better. I enjoy celebrating with my children."

"Just wish Auggie could be here."

My smile grew sad. "Me too, but I understand why he can't."

"So," she continued. "After that came the wicked stepmother?"

I chuckled. "You have no idea."

Emma grinned. "I picture her being like the stepmother from Cinderella."

I grinned back. "Actually she was more like Ursula."

Our pedicurists finished up, and we gingerly made our way to some comfy chairs to wait for our facials.

"What was your last name?" Emma asked. "Before becoming a Swan. Your maiden name, I guess."

"I…" I paused, trying to think.

"Can't you remember?"

"I…didn't have one."

Emma gave me a look. "You had to have."

Here she was, asking all the right questions, and I could have told her. Could have just said it, then spent however long it took to make her believe it. But I didn't.

"White," I said at last. "It was White."

She laughed. "Seriously? With you hair and skin, did kids call you Snow?"

"All the time."

"I've looked for him, you know."

"Who?"

Emma fidgeted uncomfortably. "My father. I've been using my resources at work to try and track him down. He's not an easy guy to find."

I chuckled mirthlessly. "No, I suppose he wouldn't be."

"I still wish you'd move on."

I reached over and patted her hand. "I know, baby, but I'm fine. Believe me."

* * *

Emma made me laugh the whole way home; outlandishly pontificating on the wonder that is the spa. "Look at us! We look twenty years younger!"

"Keep your eye on the road and off the mirror," I said, tears forming from laughter. "And are you saying you think you look three?"

"Don't I? Look! Not a wrinkle to be seen!"

"Emma Swan you _don't have any wrinkles_!"

"Don't I? Then why do I feel so ooold sometimes?"

"Darling baby girl you better hush your mouth this moment. I am _fifty_ today!"

"Fifty and fabulous! Great skin, rockin' body, no wonder other women hate you."

I frowned over-dramatically. "Other women hate me?"

"All of them," she joked. "Me included. It isn't fair. No mother should be as hot as her twenty-something daughter."

"It's a curse," I drawled.

"I'm just glad I have you in my genes."

Emma led the way into the house, still jabbering on, distracting me from the living room being overly-dark from the curtains all being drawn. A light snow flurry had just started up, and I dusted it from my shoulders as the lights all turned on suddenly and a chorus of voices yelled, "SURPRISE!"

I jumped back in alarm, finding myself standing before a dozen smiling people and a room lavishly decorated in white.

Though I had been anticipating some kind of surprise by my family's behavior the last few weeks, this truly amazed me.

Aside from Fred, Elsa, Emma and Henry, Jim and Emily and their daughter were there, along with Janice and her husband Mark, and one of their daughters. But what made me the most happy was to see the soldier, grinning ear to ear in the back.

"Auggie!" I cried, launching myself into his strong embrace.

After many years of traveling, August had nearly settled back at home, that is until September 13, 2001, when he joined hundreds of others and enlisted in the military, getting by on a false social security number and a country's desperation for soldiers.

It was a decision that devastated me and the rest of the family, while at the same time making us proud. So while I worried constantly, August was like a knight in my eyes, and the Army had turned him into a courageous and wonderful man.

I hugged his neck in a vice grip, and his arms held me just as tightly. "Happy Birthday, Mama."

"I missed you so much!" I cried before pulling back to see his face. I was unused to his short-cropped hair, and the way he stood straight and tall in his Army fatigues, but I thought he'd never look handsomer. When did his hair turn from red to brown? "I had no idea you were coming home!"

"I got in this morning," he said, beaming. "Surprise!"

I hugged him again. "This is the best birthday present ever!"

"Better than the spa?!" Emma asked playfully.

I grinned at her then stepped out of the way so August could catch Emma in a similar flying hug.

"Gah," he grunted on impact. "Damn, woman, what are you benching now?"

She smirked. "Dunno, but I know I could probably take you."

"I wouldn't dare hit a police officer. You know you gotta quit growing up so much, I'm not around to beat the men off."

"I got Henry for that."

"I got a sword!" Henry exclaimed.

"Good!" August said, bending down to scoop Henry up. "Use it!"

"Can we get this party started?" Elsa asked, appearing with the most gorgeous cake I'd ever seen, with white and blue flowers and shimmery flakes that looked like snowflakes.

The beauty of the cake, however, was somewhat marred by the big, gaudy candle in the center that simply said, "Old," in lieu of fifty candles. I glared at Emma for that, who smiled angelically. But when it was lit, it set off sparks and sang the birthday song, so I forgave her.

Though it was tough to top August being home, Henry presented me with a story he wrote all by himself, much to August's delight.

I sat down with him on my lap, so that he could read it to me, and thrilled in his tale of a brave princess named Nana, who fought dragons all by herself without the help of a prince.

"I like this story," Emma murmured.

But when he turned the page to the first illustration, I gaped at what I saw.

It was five-year-old's representation of a person, with long black hair topped with a crown, and an outfit that was clearly made up of a brown pants and shirt, green cloak, and tan fur collar. And she was holding a bow and arrow.

"Who is that?" I asked him around the lump in my throat.

"That's you!" he exclaimed. "As a princess!"

Everyone chuckled at his idea of Princess Nana, but I searched for August's eyes, amazed to find them as baffled as my own.

"Did you help him?" I asked August.

"N…no," he said, shaking his head, eyes glued to the drawing. "I just got home."

I reasoned with myself that at some point, August or I must have included a princess with that description in one of our stories. What other explanation was there? But I had forgotten about that outfit long ago.

My fiftieth birthday was possibly the most enjoyable one I'd ever had. There was still a hint of sadness that came with every birthday, though memories of my mother were almost faded to nothing. And of course was the sadness that, once again, my husband wasn't there to help me celebrate. It was times like that that made me wonder what he looked like. Surely he'd look the same, only more mature, more…distinguished. But I didn't care if he'd aged well or not. He was still the only one I wanted.

There was only five years left, and I didn't think about it much.

Especially not three years later, when Fred had a stroke.


	18. Don't Turn Your Back on Family

**Greetings, my fantabulous readers! I know it's late, but just in case I don't get the chance to update tomorrow or Saturday, I figured you wouldn't want to wait too long!**

**So, I have to say, nothing, and I mean NOTHING gets by IceTear1! (But seriously, I love you, never stop pointing out my mistakes!) And she pointed out a VERY stupid mistake on my part. In the last chapter, MM was celebrating her 50th birthday, Henry was 5, and the last line said that there were 5 years left until Emma's 28th. That was wrong. MM should have been turning 51, and my only excuse for the lapse in math skills is that this story was written almost a year ago and is going through a lot of rewriting and edits as I post it. **

**So...um...I'm so sorry. I really don't know the easiest way of fixing it, as I have referred/will be referring to MM as 56 when "that time" comes often. I guess I should make it her 51st and for some reason they didn't give her a proper 50th the year before for some reason or something? I don't know, I'm confusing myself, lol. **

**For now...try to ignore it even though I realize now that I've made it more obvious. So just know that I'm sorry and math isn't my best subject, lol. **

**Also, Twyla Mercedes asked if MM is aging normally, and in case anyone else is wondering, yes. She's aging very well, she takes good care of herself, but she is aging like anyone else. What does that mean for her and Charming? You'll have to read and see. ;)**

**Thanks to everyone who reviews, it means so much! Especially those who never fail to leave one for every chapter. Y'all are what make this so much fun!**

* * *

It was a Saturday morning when Elsa yelled my name from their bedroom.

"Call 911, girl, quick!" she cried before I even got a good look at Fred, but when I did see him, the unnatural slackness to one side of his face terrified me.

I held Elsa's hands as we sat in the emergency room, crying and praying that my dad would live. It seemed unreal to me, that big, strong, invincible Fred who had carried me like a baby after I had given birth to Emma, could be struck down this way.

I was reminded painfully of the deaths of my parents. I knew that Fred was old, and that he couldn't live forever, but I just wasn't ready to give up another father yet.

Elsa was stoic, but the paleness on her face and the way she squeezed my hands with strength belaying her age showed how afraid she was. Emma sat with Henry in her lap as he cuddled as tightly against her as his long, eight-year-old body could. He didn't completely understand what was happening, only that Grampa was sick and he was so worried. We all were.

Emma had made phone calls to Fred and Elsa's children, and left a message for August at where he was stationed in Afghanistan. She got Elsa and me something to eat, and filled out the paperwork, and did all the practical and necessary things in silence.

Fred's stroke had been moderate, affecting his left side of his body, making use of that arm and leg difficult and maybe impossible, depending on how well he recovered. The doctor was solemn though in informing us that though in excellent health for his age, Fred likely wouldn't survive a second stroke, so prevention was going to be vital.

When visitors were finally allowed in, I accompanied Elsa, who practically flew to his bedside.

I stood a respectful distance away, discreetly watching the elderly couple. Fred's speech was slurred and labored, but Elsa whispered nonsense words of love to him, smoothing back his silver hair.

The touching sight struck me straight to my heart, and never in this world had I seen True Love so strong.

"I'm not ready for you to go, just yet," Elsa murmured. "You ain't allowed to go anywhere without me, and I've still got things to do here. We both do. So you just need to get yourself better."

Fred struggled to lift his right hand, and Elsa helped it along the way, bringing his palm to her cheek, where he gently used his thumb to brush away a tear.

After a few minutes of silence, and me feeling like an intruder of such a sweet moment, Fred's eyes flickered to me and he mumbled my name.

"Hey, Dad," I whispered, stepping tentatively closer. Elsa shifted so that there was room for me to stand beside him as well.

Fred removed his hand from Elsa's cheek and raised it toward me. I caught it in both of mine and pressed a light kiss to his work-roughened knuckles. "Good girl," he muttered, eyes drifting shut. He said something else that sounded like 'princess,' and I smiled at the pet name.

"I love you, Dad," I said, and allowed Elsa to resume her post.

* * *

The following day, all three of Fred and Elsa's children arrived, along with their spouses, (Junior and Melinda's, anyway, Dana was divorced,) their children and two grandchildren. For the first time in all the years I'd known them, they treated me and my kids like members of the family. Or at least, they didn't send me dirty looks and generally ignore my presence like they normally did, and I could tell how happy that made Elsa, so I too made an effort. Though the oldest, Junior, scowled when he heard me call Elsa "Mom," he didn't say anything.

Since they came around so seldom, Fred and Elsa had never even met their two great-grandchildren, Penny who was five, and Sam who was one. Penny and Henry hit it off well, but Henry just didn't quite understand why the girl didn't seem to be too concerned about their Grampa as he did, and found it incredibly sad that she didn't even know him.

"Grampa is great!" he exclaimed. "He likes to play hide and seek, and read stories, and he always gives me candy even when my mom says not to!" he grimaced at that, and turned quickly to see if Emma had heard. She had, but only smiled and winked at him, so he relaxed.

"Really?" Penny asked, eyes wide. She looked up at her great aunt, Fred and Elsa's youngest, Miranda, who was a couple of years younger than me.

Miranda shrugged. "He's right," she said, eyes full of sadness and regret. "He always snuck us candy."

"Snuck _you_ candy," Dana, the older daughter said, voice clipped. "Not me or Junior."

From what I understood, Elsa and Fred were once very strict parents, and according to their children lacked the warmth they showed me and my children. I still believe that if it hadn't been for Dana, the sort of ring leader of the three, Junior and Miranda wouldn't have allowed themselves to become so estranged. Dana was a child psychiatrist, and had apparently convinced her siblings that Fred's discipline method of using his belt to spank with, and Elsa using soap to wash out mouths when curse words were spoken was abusive; therefor they kept their children away.

I had tried to tell her years ago that neither of them had ever attempted to discipline my children without my consent, and for that matter August never again used the "F" word after having a bar of soap placed into his mouth by Elsa when he was fifteen, with my permission, but neither had he been scarred by it.

Dana didn't listen though, and Miranda and Junior followed suit, and sitting in the hospital waiting to visit their father was the first any of them had been seen in six years.

But Fred was overjoyed to see his children and grandchildren, and I believe it was part of what helped him to recover better than anyone could have hoped. Before long he was begging to go home, lamenting about the awful hospital food.

* * *

For weeks we lived in a very, very full house as all of the kids wanted to stay and spend time with Fred.

While Emma and I were rather uncomfortable with all of these virtual strangers in our home, Elsa and Fred were happy, so that made it worth it. Plus Henry was having a blast with the constant sleepover happening in his room with six of his ten cousins. Emma had to bunk in my room, to give space Junior and his wife, while the four older cousins, three of whom were about her age, camped out in the living room. Emma tried to get to know them, but could find little in common with the three, single, bubbly college students. And though at least she and Carrie, who was five years older, both had children, Carrie sort of looked down her nose at Emma's unmarried state and young age to already have an eight-year-old.

It had taken days for August to get the message about Fred, and had called in a panic, desperate to know if he was okay. He was allowed time off to come home, which was wonderful because he had an uncanny way of diffusing tension between the two separate parts of Fred and Elsa's family – the biological, and the adopted.

One afternoon we were sitting around having lunch and homemade lemonade (courtesy of Henry and his cousins,) when Miranda declared that we needed to take some pictures of the family, since it was the rare occasion they were all together.

Fred was feeling particularly well that day, and was set up in his easy chair, beaming with pleasure at his gathered loved ones and all of the attention focused on him. First he and Elsa posed for an adorable picture, then he and Junior.

Emma, August and I stood off to the side, all feeling out of place. Though we loved Fred and Elsa like family, we were all aware that we weren't really. It made Emma mad, August forlorn, and me, well, I understood.

"I want one with my girls!" Fred demanded, his speech returning spectacularly, though it wasn't as clear as before. Miranda and Dana moved to either side of his chair while Junior got the camera ready.

"Wait!" Fred said. "I mean all _three _of my girls!"

Everyone was quiet for a breath, eyes turned to me, and I paused uncertainly, not wanting to intrude. But Fred held his hand out for me.

"Mary Margaret, what are you waiting for?"

Though Dana and Junior didn't look the least bit happy, Fred was grinning from ear to ear, so I gladly made my way over and knelt down at his feet. After the camera flashed, he patted my shoulder and I swiveled around on my knees to face him.

"You know I love you, right MayMay?"

I smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "I love you too, Dad."

More pictures followed, mostly consisting of Fred and Elsa and all of their grandchildren, August, Emma and Henry included of course.

* * *

After dinner that evening, I found Miranda examining the photographs on the mantel.

"There are more pictures of you and your kids than any of us," she said, with only a pinch of bitterness.

"All the pictures you sent them are here," I pointed out, not trying to make her feel bad but probably doing it anyway.

"You're more like their daughter than we are now."

"Is that their fault?"

Miranda sighed. "No, it's not. You were right, Mary Margaret. Junior and I shouldn't have let Dana convince us to stay away. They loved us. But they really are different with you. With us they were _so _strict, it was suffocating. And we hated being confined to this small town, and were just so eager to escape. They tried so hard to reconnect, but it was like the more time that passed the harder it was to come back. You know?"

I nodded. "Yes, I know. You know my mother died when I was very young, and my father when I was a teenager. I was…going through a very hard time when Emma was born…they saved my life. I will be eternally grateful to them for the way the opened up their home and hearts to us. But don't ever think that they replaced you with us. They love you, and they miss you."

Miranda smiled. "I'm so glad you were here, that Mom didn't have to go through that alone."

I smiled back. "Me too. Now come on, I've been hearing whispers about red velvet cake in the kitchen."

* * *

By the time everyone left, it was like we were one big family for the first time ever. Dana kept her sour face and disposition, however, and it only increased when her siblings refused to follow her example any longer. But the children all loved Henry, and Junior became surprisingly fond of Emma, since they shared a sharp tongue and strong opinionating nature, as well as a profession, as Junior was a sergeant in New York.

As for Miranda and me, we actually became friends, and as she enthusiastically hugged me goodbye with promises of another visit soon and "you HAVE to come visit us in Florida, you would love it!" I wondered if that was what it felt like to have an actual sister.

"Glad _that's _over," Emma grumbled once the last relative left.

"Emma," I scolded. "Don't let your grandparents hear you talk like that. It means a lot that they're trying to reconnect."

She made a face. "It just kind of pisses me off that they can all just waltz back in after decades of ignoring their parents. _We're _their real family."

"We _are _their family," I told her. "But so are they. You don't turn your back on family."

"You should know that better than anyone, Emma," August reminded her.

"Yeah," Emma agreed with a sigh. "I guess you're right. But I'm never calling Junior _Uncle _Junior," with that she hopped down the porch steps to chase after her son.

August and I met each other's eyes, knowing what the other was thinking.

_Don't turn your back on family_.

* * *

**Final note I swear: Sorry there wasn't a whole lot of plot development here, but there are reasons. (I say "there are reasons" about practically everything, but still.) Next up there will be a serious game changer and special birthday, so stay tuned, kids!**


	19. I Remember You

**Oh look, I did have some spare time to update! **

**So IceTear1 referred me to a song by Skid Row called I Remember You (excellent taste in music, btw) saying it made her think of this story, and she's right it totally fits! Check it out if you've never heard it. I couldn't think of a good title for this chapter, so it has been named in IceTear1's honor, lol.**

**Shout out to Davis Family Fan: Just hang on! We're gonna make it! :)**

* * *

Despite help coming in from the family and Medicare, hospital bills from Fred's stroke piled up, stacking on top of bills we were still paying from Henry's broken arm that year. Emma and I took over all of the household finances, allowing Fred and Elsa's fixed incomes to go to the hospital. August sent money when he could, but even still it was simply becoming too much.

The house, while beautiful, was old and in disrepair. Fred and Elsa had just taken out a mortgage a year prior to his stroke when property taxes skyrocketed. Plus, it was in need of a new roof, the stove was on the fritz, and Emma had to max out her credit card in order to get the central heating fixed. And then the basement flooded, forcing me to take money out of my retirement fund to get it cleaned up.

All of that on top of feeding the family, the electric bill, insurance, car payments, credit card bills, phone bills, and Henry's ever-growing self, led to more debt than I'd ever thought possible.

Even after almost three decades in this land, money trouble was a completely foreign concept to me. Up to that point we'd done very well, and before that I was a either a fugitive who stole what I needed to survive, or a princess who wanted for nothing. So needless to say I was pretty out of my depth.

And then…came the teaching layoffs.

"I don't understand," I said to the principal, Darleen as I sat in her office.

"I'm so sorry, Mary Margaret," she said, sounding truly regretful. "We have no choice. You're a wonderful teacher…"

"I've been here for twenty years!" I exclaimed.

Darleen forced a smile. "Why don't you take this opportunity for early retirement? Travel, spend some time with that grandson of yours!"

I bit back the hateful things I wanted to say to her and left, dreading going home.

* * *

"What?!" Emma exclaimed at the dinner table. "You lost your job?! How? You're everyone's favorite teacher!"

I shrugged morosely. "Forget seniority, they're allowing room for younger, fresher teachers."

"This is crap!"

"Language," Elsa reminded her.

"They want me to retire, but if I retire now I won't get half of what I will if I wait until I'm sixty-five. Besides, I love teaching."

"Can't you apply somewhere else?" Fred asked.

"Nowhere else is hiring."

"What about Augusta?" Emma asked.

"Nope, I checked," I shoved a piece of broccoli in my mouth.

"I'm so sorry, hon," Elsa said. "This is probably the worst time to bring this up, but with you out of a job, I think it's about time we start talking about selling this place."

Henry, Emma and I all exclaimed at once,

"We're moving?"

"We can't!"

"What?"

"But, Mom, you love this house," I said.

"I know," Elsa said, looking around wistfully. "It holds a lifetime of memories, but your dad can barely make it up those porch steps anymore and it's such a long drive to the doctors. We're not getting any younger, you know."

"So," Emma asked. "You want to move into Augusta?"

"Actually, we were thinking Florida."

Emma smirked. "How very old-person of you."

Fred flung a piece of broccoli at her. "We're not old!"

Elsa chuckled. "Fred, quit trying to get rid of your vegetables by throwing them at your granddaughter."

"Wish I'd thought of that," Henry mumbled.

"Eat it, Henry," Emma said with a warning tone.

"Actually," Elsa continued. "Miranda has asked us to move down there, either with them or in retirement community."

"Oh," I said, trying not to look hurt.

Emma frowned. "So, you're just packing up to Florida for a daughter who until recently ignored you, leaving a surrogate daughter who's been here for you for almost twenty-eight years?"

"Emma!" I snapped.

"No, it's alright, MayMay," Elsa said. "Emma, it isn't like that. You know we couldn't love you more if you were our flesh and blood. But that doesn't mean I stop loving my other children, and besides, I was going to ask you all to come with us!"

"But I have my job here," Emma protested.

"There are police in Florida," Fred said, eyes glinting with that ever-present mirth. "And teachers."

"We'll think about it," I said, forcing a smile. "And either way, I think it's good that you go. Miranda and her children deserve to get to know you better."

"I hope you'll come," Fred said earnestly. "It wouldn't be the same without you. Now, on to more pressing matters, like a certain young man's tenth birthday."

Henry perked up in his seat. "Yeah!"

"He wants to have a knights and dragons birthday," Emma said. "Surprise, surprise."

"Let's not forget you," Elsa said.

"No, let's," Emma laughed.

"Can't believe my baby is turning twenty-eight," I said, poking her in the ribs before I froze…before everything froze…

"_Her twenty-eighth birthday…"_

"Mom? Mom? Woo-hoo, Earth to Mom."

I blinked, finding my daughter's hand waving in front of my eyes.

"You zoned out on us for a second there."

Shaking my head, I tried to still the shaking in my hands. "Oh, sorry, my mind was off somewhere. I almost forgot that you're turning twenty-eight this year."

"Yeah?" Emma said. "One year closer to thirty. I'm perfectly content to focus on my guy getting to double-digits," she ruffled Henry's hair.

"Can we have pizza at my party?" Henry asked. "And do you think Auggie will make it home in time?"

"No promises on Auggie," Emma said regretfully. "He's stationed in Iraq, and isn't up for leave until March. But yes on the pizza."

"I'd rather Auggie," he said sadly. "But I'll take pizza. Nana? Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," I said weakly, getting up to wash the dishes. "I'm fine."

* * *

The following day went by with me as I paced my room, my mind running a mile a minute. How did I forget? How did I not realize that it was getting _this close_? Since Fred's stroke, my life had revolved around helping him recover, then all the debt, along with helping raise Henry, and worrying about my children and their dangerous professions.

I hadn't even looked at Charming's picture in…I didn't know how long. The old familiar ache I felt for my husband, but in later years forced into the back of my mind for my own sanity, rushed to the surface. I dug in my drawer for the old drawing, nearly tearing up to see how wrinkled it had become.

I could barely reconcile the painted face of the girl, dressed in white, lying in a glass coffin, with myself anymore. It was easy to see her as just a fairytale princess from a storybook. But I looked at Charming and a flood of emotion hit me like a ton of rocks. He was out there, somewhere, and I didn't even know where to begin looking.

I sat down on the foot of my bed and rubbed my aching temples. I'd grown complacent the past several years. So absorbed into my life there in Maine that I allowed my true identity and my responsibilities to fade into the background. And as it was, my memories of my previous life were continuing to slip.

Twenty-eight years felt like a blink of the eye just then. And Emma _still_ didn't know!

My door opened and I forced myself into composure as Emma sauntered in, dropping herself to lay crossways on my bed. "Mom, I don't want to move to Florida."

"Neither do I," I said. "But I hate to live so far away from them. Henry is going to miss them so much."

"Me too," she said. "It'll be weird not living all together."

I frowned, giving her my best puppy-dog eyes. "Are you saying that I can't live wherever you live?"

She smirked at me. "Of course you will, you know I can't be without my mommy to make me food and do my laundry."

I took a shirt out of said laundry and swatted her with it.

"Ow!" she yelled over-dramatically. "Abuse! First the broccoli and now this!"

I stuck my tongue out at her. "Besides, if you got your own place without me, Henry might miss you."

She narrowed her eyes at me, then we both started laughing.

Once we quieted, I bit my lip. I _needed_ to tell her. But how would she ever believe me? _I_ barely believed me! "Emma, there's something I need…"

"Oh!" she said suddenly. "Sorry, hold that thought, I almost forgot," she pulled a newspaper clipping out of her back pocket. "Came across this in the paper this morning at the station."

It was a classified article, advertising a teaching job at a large private school in Boston. "Wow, excellent pay, but its two and a half hours away from Augusta."

"Yeah, but my captain has friends in Boston, I'm pretty sure I could get transferred. We could all just move there."

I smiled. "Well, it's certainly worth a shot."

"A shot? Come on, Mom, there's no way they wouldn't hire you. If you want, I'll come with you so you can apply."

"Thanks, sweetie," I said, leaning over to kiss her temple.

* * *

I sent three messages to August in Iraq, wondering why he hadn't brought up the deadline. I began to worry when he didn't call or email, but I knew how hard it could be for him to contact us sometimes, though it didn't lessen my stress.

I was at a loss of what to say or do to explain things to Emma. She'd long since abandoned her search for her father, and was content enough in her life that she never asked questions about our past anymore.

I was distracted, but I tried to make myself focus on Henry's birthday and my upcoming interview. I didn't know what was going to happen on Emma's birthday, but for the time being I needed to be practical, and I needed work.

"…Happy birthday to you!" we finished singing as we surrounded Henry at the dining table.

Henry took a deep breath and blew out all ten of his candles on the dragon cake I decorated. The candles were clustered together at the dragon's open mouth, to make it look like it was breathing fire.

"Did you make a wish?" I asked him.

"Uh, huh!" he exclaimed. "Presents now?"

"Henry," Emma admonished. "That's not polite."

"Sorry," he said contritely. "Presents _please_?"

Everyone had to give a chuckle at that, and I stacked up his presents before him. It wasn't nearly as many as it had been the year before, but if Henry noticed he didn't comment.

"Percy Jackson!" he cried, holding up the books he'd asked for. "Thanks, Nana!"

"I love a man who gets excited over books," I replied, leaning down for a kiss. "You're welcome, baby."

He was thrilled by all his presents, especially the wooden sword Emma bought him, and the army knife Fred gave him which worried Emma and me but it made Henry's eyes light up so we kept it to ourselves.

"Just be careful, Henry," Emma warned.

"I will," he said, pulling out all the attachments.

"Here," I said, handing him a birthday card. "Auggie sent this a month ago to make sure you got it in time."

Henry all but ripped the card from my hands and tore into it, eager to read anything sent by his idol. "Mom, look! Fifty bucks!"

"Dang," Emma said playfully. "I could use that! Gimme!"

Henry giggled and pulled the money out of her reach. "Can I go to Boston with you and Nana next week so I can spend it?"

"Don't you want to save it?" Elsa asked.

Henry gave her a puzzled look. "No ma'am!"

"Yes," I told him. "You can come. Now, what did Auggie say on the card?" I couldn't help but wonder if he'd written anything to do with the curse, even if it was coded or something only I would understand.

"It says, 'Happy birthday, Buddy. Sorry I couldn't be there on your big day, but believe me when I tell you I'll be thinking about you. Now go out and spend your big bucks on something totally frivolous that will especially bug your mom, since I'm not there to do the bugging. I miss you and love you, give everyone a hug for me. Auggie.'"

I frowned. And it had been the last we'd heard of him. I would have heard if something happened, not only that but I would have _known_. He wasn't scheduled to come home until March, so that meant I was on my own.

* * *

We left bright and early the day before Emma's birthday to go into Boston for my interview. I was a nervous wreck, and not because of the interview. I was terrified of what would happen the next day. I didn't know what I was supposed to do, what _Emma _was supposed to do. I'd never felt more lost, not even twenty-eight years ago when I landed in an unfamiliar world.

"You okay?" Emma asked from the driver's seat. "You've been awfully quiet."

I smiled at her, shaking off my persistent thoughts. "I'm fine, just thinking. Everything is changing so fast."

"I know," she said. "It's crazy. Poor Auggie doesn't even know yet."

"Did you say anything about a transfer?" I asked her.

"Yeah, I talked to my captain, he doesn't think it should be a problem at all."

I smirked at her. "And what about Alan? What does he think about you transferring?"

"Oh, that," she grimaced. Alan worked in the office at the station and had been carrying a torch for Emma for years. "That wasn't going to work out."

"Why not?"

She glanced in the rearview mirror at Henry and decided he was absorbed into his video game before continuing. "So we went out for drinks after work a couple weeks ago, right? And he got a phone call that he said he had to take, so he stepped outside. Well, my superpower was going off like crazy, so I followed him out. Turns out he was talking to his girlfriend."

I made a face. "Uck. Sorry, sweetie."

She shrugged. "That's my dating life in a nutshell I'm afraid. Either they're jerks, cheats, gay or…" she glanced in the mirror again and lowered her voice. "…think a kid is too much baggage."

"Don't give up hope," I said. "Your True Love is out there waiting."

She scoffed. "Twue wuv? Seriously? You've been reading Henry's books."

"Are you quoting The Princess Bride?" Henry piped up, clearly having only heard the last part of the conversation.

"Yes!" I turned around in my seat, grinning cheekily at him. "My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father!"

Emma and Henry joined in to finish the quote. "Prepare to die!"

"We're a weird family," Emma muttered with a grin.

"Oh, baby child, you have no idea."

Emma shot me a puzzled look but promptly turned her attention back to the road. "Are we still in Maine? We're in the middle of freaking nowhere."

"I think you missed a turn," I said. "Or six."

"Not according to the GPS!"

"What happened to good old-fashioned sense of direction?" I asked. "You know, looking at the position of the sun and stars, moss on trees, that sort of thing!"

Henry and Emma both laughed. "Okay, World Atlas, which way?"

I gave my daughter a defiant glare and pointed to the left, down a random country road. "Thataway!"

I wasn't being serious, but never one to back down first, Emma took the left and we all laughed while Henry shouted about adventure.

It stopped being funny when we found ourselves clear on the other end of nowhere and no clue where we were.

"Aaand no cell reception," Emma sighed. "Nice one, Mom."

"Don't look at me!" I objected. "You're driving!"

"Going the way _you _told me to! The GPS seems to have written us off. Oh Lord, this is Deliverance…I can hear the banjos…"

"Oh, stop it."

"Children, children," Henry sad, doing his best Elsa impression and making us laugh again."

"Oh look, a sign," Emma didn't sound overly enthused.

I squinted to try and see it. "Does it say how to get on the interstate?"

"Nah, I think it's just a town sign. Maybe we'll get cell reception there."

We continued on down the long, straight road, and I read the cute sight aloud as we passed. "Welcome to Storybrooke..."

* * *

***giggles evilly* I love cliffhangers, don't you? :)**


	20. Storybrooke

**Hey readers! So wow, the response to the last chapter was amazing! Thanks, you guys! And I'm up to 110 followers! Y'all are too awesome.**

**To the guest who left a super nice review and said they sort of wish this is how the show actually turned out: since I can't respond to you personally, thank you!**

**To eduardinable3: You're officially the coolest ever.**

**To Camille22: Breathe, hon, breathe!**

**To everyone: THANK YOU SO MUCH! (^-^)**

**And now, we finally see Storybrooke...**

* * *

"Storybrooke?" Emma scoffed, wrinkling her nose. "Really?"

"Cool!" Henry exclaimed. "Can we go there?"

"Apparently we are," she said. "Hopefully there's at least a gas station or something where we can ask for directions."

"Can we get something to eat?"

"This isn't a road trip, kid, we have to get Nana to her interview."

After a while of nothing but trees and the occasional house, we came upon the cutest, most quant little fishing town. It looked like the set of a movie…that takes place in the 1950s.

Emma frowned at our surroundings as we slowly cruised down the quiet Maine Street. "Yeesh, are we in a time warp? That store back there that sells 'Modern Fashions' had crap from the eighties in the window."

"The eighties are coming back," I told her, not too thrilled about that either. "I like it, it looks like the kind of town that has block parties and Founder's Day festivals and things like that."

Emma pulled her bug into a parallel spot in front of a little diner called Granny's. "Okay, kid, you win, I'm starving. Let's get something to eat."

"Let's hurry though," I told them. "Food, directions and go. I don't want to be late."

"We have time," Emma said, holding the door open for Henry. "It's only…" she glanced up at a pretty clock tower. "8:15?"

Henry chuckled. "It's eleven. Something tells me that clock's broken."

For such a small diner in such a small town, Granny's was busy. There seemed to be only one waitress, who was a scantily dressed blur of activity.

"Be with you guys in a sec!" she called over her shoulder. "Sit wherever you want!"

"Reminds me of Roger's," I commented as we found an empty booth and at down.

"I can see why there's so many men here," Emma said with a smirk, indicating the young woman's red, micro-mini skirt, low-cut top, and abundance of eye makeup.

"Why?" Henry asked, looking at the waitress.

"Ask Auggie," Emma said flatly, and I swatted her hand from across the table.

There was something about the waitress that seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.

I was studying the menu, wishing I hadn't left my reading glasses in the car when she finally made her way over to us.

"Sorry about that," she said cheerfully. "Tail end of the breakfast rush, so it'll be dead in second!"

Something about her voice, and her breathy laugh, made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I looked up from the menu and found myself staring at a very familiar pair of eyes. "What can I get you, honey?" she asked me.

"Nana?" Henry nudged me. "She asked you what you want."

"Huh?" I looked at him then back at the waitress. "Oh, sorry, you just…um…reminded me of someone I once knew."

She put her hand on her hip. "Funny, you look kinda familiar too, but I don't think I've seen you in town, have I?"

We're just passing through," Emma said. "In fact, we're kinda lost. We need directions, as well as food."

Suddenly the girl's eyes went blank. She shook her head once, and when they opened again, something else was there. It was like watching someone trying to remember their lines in a play. "Oh sure, if you just keep on through town you'll hit the interstate."

It was weird, like she didn't even know what she was saying, but Emma didn't seem to notice, which was also weird because Emma noticed everything. "Really? Perfect, thanks!"

She took our orders, but I couldn't take my eyes off of her. The likeness was uncanny…but it was impossible. This girl wasn't any older than Emma. I shook my head at myself. It had been too long, she probably didn't even look as much like her as I thought.

"Ruby!" someone in the diner yelled. "Can I get some more coffee over here?"

My head whipped up fast enough to pull something in my neck and I looked across the room toward the counter, where sat a man dressed like some kind of janitor.

'_It can't be…_'

"Hold your horses, Leroy," an elderly woman snapped from behind the counter. "Ruby's only got two hands!"

My mind whirled, and my temples began to throb. There was no mistake now. That was _Granny_, and sitting at the counter was Grumpy, and the barely-clad waitress was Red!

"…Mom?" Emma said, taking my hand. My attention snapped back to her, and I realized that I was holding my breath. "You okay? You're really pale all of a sudden."

"I'm fine," I lied, clearing my throat because my voice wavered. "Just really hungry, I guess."

When the food came though, I could hardly eat, only watch Red from the corner of my eye, shamelessly flirting with a man I didn't recognize, bending over so he could get a good view of her cleavage. It was horrifying. The Red I knew wouldn't behave that way.

"You coming down with something?" Emma asked, reaching across the table to feel my forehead.

"Maybe," I said, calming down at last, at least outwardly.

Once we'd eaten, or rather, Henry and Emma had eaten, I paid and we stood up to make our way toward the door. Emma stopped at the counter to get the girl's attention, seeming to realize that I was out of order.

"So, we just keep going north to the interstate?"

"Right," Red said. "You'll be there before you know it."

The bell above the door jingled as it opened behind me, and I was almost afraid of who I might see come in next. At first, I didn't think I recognized him at all, but then I remembered. His face hovering above mine, a knife in his hand…

"Hello," he said, strolling up to us. "Leroy told me there were some newcomers here. We don't get a whole lot of visitors. Welcome to Storybrooke."

"We're just passing through," Emma said, quirking an eyebrow at him in suspicion, the way she did with most men.

His eyes lingered on Emma a moment longer than strictly necessary. "Well, come back for a visit sometime. I'm Sheriff Humbert by the way," he smiled dashingly at Emma. "But you can call me Graham."

Emma nodded politely, not in the least impressed, and made to leave.

"We're thinking of moving out this way," I blurted without thinking and Emma shot me a horrified look.

"Really?" Graham asked, looking genuinely pleased.

"Yeah, just…looking for a teaching job."

"We have an opening here!" Red…or Ruby…whatever, same color, exclaimed. "Granny, isn't the elementary school looking for a fourth grade teacher?"

"Sure is," Granny said. "Teachers are in short supply around here."

"Fourth grade is my Nana's favorite grade to teach!" Henry supplied. "And I'm in fourth!"

"Where can I apply?" I asked hopefully.

"Mom…" Emma hissed, but I ignored her.

"The school is just off Main Street," Graham said, pointing. "Not far, just keep on this road until you reach the school crossing sign and turn left."

"Thanks!" I told them all. "I'll go right now!"

Ruby beamed. "Good luck!"

* * *

"Mom, _what_ are you doing?" Emma asked when we got to the car.

"What?" I shrugged. "A teaching job's a teaching job."

"But this town…" she looked around as if it were the Twilight Zone. But then maybe it was. "It's weird."

"I like it," Henry said.

"Me too," I agreed, perhaps over-enthusiastically.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Fiiine, go apply. I'll take Henry to that park over there."

I nodded and all but shooed them away, anxious to have a moment alone. My mind just couldn't process what was happening.

When I got into the car, I had to just sit there a second and breathe, gripping the steering wheel so hard it made my fingers hurt.

They were _here_. All those years, my people were just a couple of hours away, all together in the same town. But that wasn't what blew me away…they were the _same_. The exact same as they were twenty-eight years ago. Okay, maybe not the exact same, Red was certainly dressing and acting differently, but Granny should have been pushing a hundred by now.

'_Your curse…will be time_.'

Rumplestiltskin told us after all, I just never knew what he meant. The curse froze everyone in time. But not me, August or Emma, because we escaped.

I glanced at myself in the rearview mirror, at the lines around my eyes and mouth, at the grey that streaked my hair more and more it seemed every time I looked. Those things had never bothered me before. Aging, and everything that came with it, had always been like a rite of passage to me. I'd earned my laugh lines, my silvering hair, the way my body had morphed from motherhood. But I was still fit and healthy, except for a bit of arthritis in my knees, and I looked pretty damn good for a fifty-six year old woman. But I was still fifty-six, and _he _was there…somewhere…and he hadn't aged a day in twenty-eight years.

It was like someone swept a rug out from under my feet. Somewhere someone, probably Regina, was laughing at me.

And apparently, no one even knew who they really were.

I didn't know what to do.

* * *

Though Mother Superior, the dean on the school, surprised me by being a very human Blue Fairy and I surprised her by being…well, new in town which I was quickly learning never happened, the interview went off without a hitch.

Both Graham and Granny had evidently called ahead of me, telling her that I was coming in and seemed like a great candidate. This impressed her because Granny didn't actually like many people. I suppose some things even a curse can't change.

"You have great experience, and you'd be bringing us a new student to boot!" the fairy-turned-nun said. "Can you start Monday?"

Being Tuesday, it didn't give me much time to get my affairs in order, and in any other town the rapid employment without checking my references would have alarmed me, but these were very special circumstances and I was determined to make it work.

"I'll see on you on Monday," I said, shaking her hand.

* * *

"I got the job!" I exclaimed to Emma when I found her and Henry at the park.

Henry ran over to hug me. "Way to go, Nana!"

"I start Monday."

"Monday?!" Emma exclaimed. "Whoa whoa, slow down, that doesn't give you a whole lot of time! And what about our plan, what about Boston?"

"I wasn't going to make it on time to the interview anyway," I said, shrugging. "And this is a sure thing, I _have _a job!"

"Well, I guess I don't have to transfer, but what about living arrangements? Are you going to commute until we figure that out?"

"Actually, I'd like to move into town as soon as possible. This week if we can find a place."

Emma was incredulous. "In _town_? This _week?_ What the hell, Mom? We're an hour and a half away from Augusta! It's too far a drive for me from here!"

"But this town is so lovely, and quant!" I said, bordering on pleading. "Don't you think it'd be a nice place for Henry to grow up?"

"Yeah, I already made a friend, her name is Paige!" Henry pointed to a pretty little girl on the swing set, smiling sweetly in his direction.

I raised my eyebrows meaningfully at Emma, both of us knowing that this was a big deal. Henry, like his mother before him, didn't make friends easily. Though he'd gone to school with the same kids his whole life, he'd never made a lasting connection with any of them. He was a loner by nature, just like his mom. That he so quickly made a friend in a little girl who at that moment was calling him back was monumental.

"And the school looks wonderful," I continued. "We could walk, save a lot of money…"

"You're forgetting my hour and a half long drive to Augusta every day."

"Maybe the Sheriff's station here is hiring."

Emma groaned. "_Here_? In _Mayberry?_ The biggest crisis they probably ever face here is Otis getting drunk! This is all so sudden, Mom, I was willing to pack up to go to Boston for you…but…_here_?"

I turned on my patented puppy-dog eyes. "Just think about it? Please?"

Emma stood her ground for all of thirty seconds before relenting with a moan. "Fine! I'll _think_ about it! No promises!"

* * *

I was afraid of leaving Storybrooke, scared that if I left I'd never find it again. It seemed to me that it must have been protected somehow by magic, because neither Emma or I had ever heard of such a town and no information could be found about it on Google. But that confused me because this was the land without magic…but clearly magic was at play in Storybrooke. Leaving, however, couldn't be helped, and we headed home that afternoon.

Being there, seeing them, it brought it all crashing back. As the years had gone by, my home, my life, my _identity _had faded into a story I dreaded telling Emma. Now that the time had come, I admitted to myself that there was many times that I was ready to accept that none of it was real, that it was all an elaborate dream that for some reason my mind forced into place to cover real memories. But now that I'd seen Red and Grumpy it felt like only yesterday that I was crawling into that wardrobe, my last view of my husband being of him fighting for his life – for our lives.

I knew that the curse must have _brought _us to Storybrooke. It _wanted _Emma to break it. It was her destiny. One she was sorely unprepared for, and there was no one to blame but me.

Fred and Elsa were both happy for us yet devastated that we'd decided not to go to Florida with them. I hated the suddenness of our separation, but for once I felt like I needed to put my first family…well…first.

Initially, Emma was going to stay home until Fred and Elsa sold the house and moved, a situation which twisted my gut every which way because Emma needed to be in Storybrooke more than I did, yet nothing would have made me leave my parents alone.

In the end, Junior and his wife drove up from New York for a lengthened visit that they were already planning to make. Junior seemed happy to be in the position to take care of his parents, and he was going to drive them down to Florida, (Elsa hated planes,) while his wife, daughter, and her husband took on the task of moving them. Elsa and Fred were going to live with Miranda in her spacious beach home.

Emma and I packed, only getting things ready for when we found a place to live. It was heartbreaking work, preparing to leave the place I had called home for nearly thirty years. The place where my children grew up. The place where _I _grew up.

"Remember this?" Emma chuckled, pointing at a filled-in hole in the wall that normally hid behind a picture.

"Why yes I do," I said. "I remember vividly the day my daughter used her bedroom wall to bounce a baseball off of after me telling her a dozen times not to."

"But I was so proud that I could throw a ball hard enough to bust through the wall!"

I shook my head at her. "I think it's safe now to tell you that after I spanked you, I took a picture of the ball in the hole because I was kind of impressed with you too."

"Where's the picture?!" Emma howled.

"In your baby book, where else?"

* * *

We had a small party for Emma the day before we left. Henry meticulously counted out twenty-eight candles and stuck them into the chocolate cupcakes I'd baked for her.

"Make a wish," I said.

Emma gave me a contemplative look, then blew out her star-shaped candles.

I felt a rush run through me, like a gust of wind. The time had finally come. Emma was twenty-eight.

I watched Emma and Henry devour cupcakes, but my eyes drifted to the wall behind them, where there was a height chart, scratched with so many names and heights most of it was indiscernible. Junior, Dana and Miranda's names were there, but so were my kids', the most recent being Henry's height charted in green pen.

Elsa must have caught me staring because she reached over from where she sat beside me and squeezed my hand.

"Home isn't a building, hon," she told me. "Home is where your family is."

I smiled at her. "It just pains me that I can never manage to keep my whole family together."

She chuckled. "Oh, we'll all be together someday all right, but in the meantime, we live, and love the ones we have."

* * *

When we were finishing up packing, I came across something I hadn't looked at in many, many years. I turned it over in my hands slowly, trying to control my breathing, then got up and went to Emma's room.

"Glad I'm not overly-sentimental," Emma said with a small laugh. "Makes packing easier."

I glanced dubiously at her bed, which was piled up with her baby blanket, her dragon, an assortment of Henry's baby things, a teddy bear her friend Henry won for her at a fair as well as a mix tape, a charm bracelet, and a mood ring he'd given her. I then glanced at the swan pendant she wore around her neck at all times and shook my head. Not sentimental indeed. But I didn't comment on it.

"I have something for you," I said as I sat on her bed. "A present."

"You already gave me presents," she said with a chuckle. "Have I mentioned yet how much I freaking love my red jacket?"

I smiled at her. "Several times, sweetheart, and you're welcome. This is special though," I handed her the object, wrapped in my white cloak.

Emma furrowed her brow and unwrapped the ornate dagger I'd brought through with us.

"A knife?"

"Your…father…" I stammered. "He gave it to me when I left. He wanted to give it to you when you were older."

Emma's eyes widened and she looked back at the dagger with renewed interest. "Really?" she whispered. "It's…beautiful. Thank you."

"And this," I fingered the cloak, tracing the faint white flowers sewn into it with my finger. "I was wearing this the day I left…the day you were born."

Emma frowned in thought and looked at the cloak, no doubt wondering why I would have been wearing such a thing. "It's so soft. This is mine, too?"

"Of course, if you want it."

Emma smiled, holding the cloak close to her chest and turned the dagger around in her hand so the jewels caught the light. Not sentimental indeed.

I smiled, then left her alone with her gifts, calling myself all kinds of coward for not using that opportunity to tell her more.

* * *

"You better call," Elsa said, hugging me tightly. "And often."

We had loaded up Emma's car and mine with the majority of our belongings, and were ready to go.

"I will, Mom, I promise. Have fun getting tan in Florida!"

If possible, saying goodbye to Fred was even harder, given how close we'd come to losing him completely. I had the sinking, heartbreaking feeling that this was the last time I ever saw them, and it made me not want to let go. "I love you, Dad," I whispered, hugging him.

"I love you, too, MayMay," he said. "You take care of my grandbabies."

Henry and Emma clung to their grandparents, and I wondered if they had the same feeling of finality that I did. It absolutely killed me, taking them away from the only family they'd ever known, but what they didn't realize yet was that I was taking them to the family they'd _never_ known.

"Mary Margaret, I want to give you something," Elsa said, disappearing into her room and emerging a moment later with something in her hand.

"You don't need to give me anything," I told her lovingly. "You've already given us so much."

"No more than you've given us, hon," she said, and gave me the most beautiful necklace I'd ever seen.

It had a small, delicate golden pendant with a flawless emerald at the center. It matched my wedding ring perfectly.

"This was my mother's," she explained, gazing at the necklace fondly. "Her mother passed it down to her, and her to me. I want you to have it now."

I gasped. "I couldn't possibly…surely your daughters…"

"Never liked it," she interrupted. "And even if they did, and even if they'll probably be cross with me if they find out, I want _you _to have it. You're my daughter too, and besides, it goes with your ring and eyes. And when the time comes, you'll pass it down to Emma."

I smiled through my tears and let her latch it around my neck. Nothing she could have given me would have meant more. "Thank you," I whispered shakily. "I didn't manage to keep anything of my mother's…nothing. You've been the amazing mother I missed out on when I was a girl. When I came here I thought I was old enough not to need a mom, and I was very wrong. Thank you so much…for everything."

Elsa hugged me and kissed the tears off my cheeks. "Thank _you_, Mary Margaret, for coming into our lives," she pulled back, looking at the necklace approvingly. "You really are the fairest of them all."

My eyes flew open wide and I gaped at her, not at all sure how to respond.

She put her finger under my chin and closed my mouth with a wink. "Go on, Snow, go find your Prince Charming."

I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry, so I did both and hugged my mom one last time.

Though Emma hadn't caught the exchange, she looked at me happily and admired the necklace.

"Bye, Grampa! Bye Granma!" Henry yelled, sticking his head out the rear window of my car.

"Bye, my boy," Fred called from his seat on the front porch. "You keep these women folk in line!"

I got in my car, took one last look at the porch and at my parents, at the garden I'd helped tend, at the apple tree I never did go near, and at the yellow storybook house that had been my salvation. And then I drove back to Storybrooke.

* * *

**I know that wasn't all in Storybrooke, and I hope you weren't disappointed about that, but I had to let Snow and Elsa and Fred have their proper goodbye and wrap up a big part of Snow's life! But now on to SB for good, and there the fun will really begin!**


	21. Villians

**Woo! Finally we're in Storybrooke! This is where it gets a little more challenging for me, since my story has caught up to where the show begins. Obviously things will be quite different, but that's half the fun! **

**I'm not going to go episode by episode and recreate each one, especially considering most of those stories were strictly about Emma, and MM wasn't even around. So I'll be skimming over some things from the show that MM wasn't a part of, but I will also be putting her in there with Emma in certain situations too, (since as a mom she's much more into Emma's business, lol.) And then there is one certain episode I just can't wait to put the mother/daughter duo spin on *coughHatTrickcough* :)**

**And now, MM is about to run into a couple of people I just know you're looking forward to seeing:**

* * *

To my immense relief, we found Storybrooke again quite easily. Even Emma had been a tad worried, since even the GPS had never heard of such a place.

"Maybe it's a commune," she muttered as we passed the sign. "Maybe they're gonna suck us in and we'll never get out, and we'll be one of those stories on The Learning Channel about how a woman with her son and mother go into this town in the woods no one else had ever heard of…" she continued in a deep, theatrical voice, "…and they were never seen again."

"It's just a small town," I told her in my 'Emma don't be a drama queen' tone. "They're old fashioned. Just because they don't have a website doesn't make it a commune."

"Or maybe…" Henry said, surprising me because I thought he was asleep. I turned around to see his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe they're all _vampires!_"

Emma scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous Henry, it was sunny last time we were here and people were walking about."

I rolled my eyes and chuckled under my breath at my daughter and grandson's serious conversation about whether the inhabitants of Storybrooke were the undead or not.

It was late when we pulled up to the run-down inn connected to Granny's, and I dragged my sleepy children through the front door to the (admittedly) eerie lobby.

At first I thought it was empty, but the sounds of someone stomping down the stairs quickly filled the silence.

Ruby was marching into the lobby like a child whose toy had been taken away, and Granny was hot on her heels.

"You were out all night and now you're going out again!" Granny shouted, as of yet unaware that they had company.

"I wish I had moved to Boston!" Ruby shrilled, and I winced at her childish behavior. Red wasn't like that.

"Well I'm sorry my heart attack kept you from sleeping your way across the Eastern Seaboard!"

At this point Emma cleared her throat, and both women turned to us in surprise.

"Oh!" Granny explained, blushing slightly. "Sorry, folks."

"We need a room?" Emma prompted.

Granny shook her head and jumped to business, as if forgetting that this was an inn. "Of course!" she smiled at me. "I heard you're our new fourth grade teacher."

"Yes ma'am," I told her. "And if you know of any houses or apartments around, that'd be great."

"I'll ask around," she said and opened her ledger – a big dusty thing that looked seldom, if ever, used. "Do you want a square view of a forest view? Normally there's an upcharge for the square, but since you folks are the only ones here, I can waive that."

"Square's fine," Emma said, pulling out her card to pay.

"And what was your name again?" Granny asked just as the door was opening behind me.

I turned around to see someone else enter. He was a slim man, not much taller than myself, wearing an impeccable suit. He was older, and walked with a cane and pronounced limp, but you could tell just by looking at his calculating eyes that underestimating him would be a dire mistake.

And though he looked completely different, from his skin to his hair to his eyes, somehow I recognized him all the same. And seeing him filled me with both trepidation and relief.

While I was studying him, and he was giving me an uninterested glace, Emma was answering Granny's question.

"Swan, Emma Swan."

I watched as he staggered just slightly, his face lighting up with a sudden…awareness.

"Emma," he said suddenly, almost in awe. It made me jump, both by the way he said it as if he was remembering something long forgotten, and also by the deep, soft tone of it as opposed to a shrill cackle. He composed himself quickly and I could have sworn he had changed into someone else in the span of seconds. "What a lovely name."

Emma spun around, surprised too by the sudden male voice in the room and eyed him warily. "Thanks," she mumbled.

"It's all here," Granny broke in snappishly, holding out a wad of cash.

"Oh yes, of course," he said, all politeness. His eyes, startlingly human, drifted to mine again and this time it was far from disinterestedly. "Are you her sister?"

"Mother," I said simply, staring him down.

He chuckled. "My, my, barely look old enough, Dearie," it was clearly a hollow compliment, and he turned back to Emma. "Enjoy your stay…Emma," he nodded at me. "Miss. I'm sure you'll find our town quite…" he winked. "Charming."

"Who was _that_?" Emma asked once he was gone.

"Mr. Gold," Ruby said, watching him through the window. "He owns this place."

"The inn?"

"No," Granny said, voice full of scorn. "The town," she seemed to mentally shake herself and handed Emma a decorative room key. "Anyway, welcome to Storybrooke."

"Thanks," she said, then looked down at Henry who seemed more than a little perturbed by Mr. Gold. "That guy?" she jerked her head toward the door. "Definitely a vampire."

Henry nodded enthusiastically and Granny and Ruby both agreed.

But I was still staring at the door _he _just left from. Of course his name would be Mr. Gold here. Clearly the curse had a sense of humor when it came to names. I still wasn't entirely sure what was happening in Storybrooke, but I knew two things for certain: No one knew who they really were. No one except for Mr. Gold, because from the moment he heard Emma's name, the name he struck a deal for in that dank cell all those years ago and at the time I couldn't fathom why, he remembered. Rumplestiltskin remembered.

* * *

Finding a place to live wasn't as easy as we'd hoped. There simply weren't vacancies in a town seemingly made just for the cursed of the Enchanted Forest. There was only a large house that was way out of our price range, a rustic cabin in the woods that Emma immediately vetoed, and a loft apartment in the middle of downtown made of an old refurbished warehouse of some sort.

"It's small," Emma said, wrinkling her nose.

"But cute," I supplied. "Artsy. I love that bird on the wall."

"You and your birds," she chuckled. "But Mom, there's like, only one room."

"It wouldn't be hard to section off the upstairs into two rooms, and my room could be down here, in that cute little alcove by the window."

"I think it's cool!" Henry exclaimed, coming down from where he was exploring upstairs. He got his optimism from me.

I held a hand palm up toward Henry, showing Emma that I wasn't alone. (I never was, Henry almost always agreed with his Nana.)

Emma crossed her arms and fixed me with her famous 'sizing up' stare. "You really wanna live here?"

Yes, I wanted to live there. It didn't matter if I was living in a box, I didn't want to leave again, but forcing Emma into anything was a futile game. She _could_ always decide to go on to Boston on her own, she was a grown woman and I couldn't have stopped her. "It's the only place available that we could afford," I said with a shrug. "I know you're not crazy about any of this…" though it was the absolute last thing I wanted to do, I knew I had to give Emma an out, or she'd go crazy. "If you really don't want to live here with me…I understand."

Emma sagged, her expression softening. "No, I want to be with you, Mom," she sighed and rubbed her face. "You've been putting Auggie and me first our entire lives. The least I can do is put _you_ first for once. Okay, if you're sure, we'll take it."

I clapped my hands excitedly. How about that, a battle won without my puppy-dog eyes. "Thank you Emma, but so you know, you don't _owe _me a thing. I put you first because it's my job, and I love you. I'll always put you first."

Emma smiled and put an arm around me. "I know, Mom, but I need to continue my lessons from the Master of Guilting Their Children into Stuff. Never know when I'll need to use it on Henry.

Henry scoffed. "Please, all _you _need is your Superpower Stare."

Emma laughed. "Hey, I can do puppy-dog eyes if I want to!"

Henry turned on her with the most convincing puppy-dog eyes I'd ever seen, and how proud I was of him in that moment!

Emma gasped theatrically and shielded her face with her arm. "Gah! Can't stand the cute! No fair, it must have skipped a generation!"

* * *

My first day at Storybrooke Elementary was an overall success. The children, a couple of whom I recognized as being the children of knights and servants from my castle, were well behaved but rather bored. It made me a little sad, wondering how many times over the past twenty-eight years the same fourth-graders had learned these lessons, and wondered why _they _never noticed not growing up.

I tried to mix up the stale, outdated lesson plan, throwing in impromptu art projects and discussing things in a different way than my book had laid out. I made jokes, and allowed the children to work in groups. By the end of the day they were hanging on my every word, arguing who got to be the room helper the next day, and left giving me hugs and drawings and chattering excitedly.

Henry and Paige were already glued at the hip, and I couldn't help but grin at the little girl's budding attempts at flirting, and Henry's complete obliviousness.

They reminded me fondly of Emma and the original Henry, and I wondered if I knew Paige's parents.

After class had ended and all of the children had gone, Paige was lagging behind, helping me and Henry clean up the class. She told us that her mother had said that morning that she would be late in picking her up, so the three of us had a good time laughing and getting things ready for the next day.

"She had a meeting," Paige explained about her mom, a little sadly, and I wondered if "meetings" took up a lot of her mom's time.

"We'll wait until your mom comes," I told her as the three of us walked out of the school and toward the parking lot.

"She's here," Paige said, pointing across the field.

And just like that, I froze.

I knew I'd have to come face to face with her eventually, I just never in my wildest dreams imagined it would be this way.

My stepmother, in all her regality, sauntered her way toward us, and I ferociously shoved down the nerves that turned my insides to ice.

She looked the same as I remembered her, except her hair was cut fashionably short, and instead of her outlandish gowns, she wore a simple, tailored pencil skirt and a suit jacket with ridiculously high heels. She zeroed in on Paige, an aggravated expression on her face that I remembered all too well, and ignored me and Henry altogether.

"Paige, I distinctly remember telling you to wait by the bus loop," Regina said, as haughtily as ever.

"Sorry," Paige said. To my relief the girl didn't act afraid of the woman, but warning bells were going off in my head like crazy. _Regina_ had a _daughter?!_ "This is Ms. Swan, our new teacher. And this is my new friend, Henry!"

Regina glanced over Henry with poorly concealed disdain then deemed to look at me for the first time. For just a moment she looked like she was trying to place me, then her eyes widened in horror. So I shot her a smug grin. I supposed she remembered too. I wasn't surprised. For a moment we just stared at one another, while she tried to compose herself. Seeing her thrown for a loop was possibly the most satisfying thing I'd seen in a long time.

"Ms…Swan, is it?" Regina asked, voice dripping in venom. "And just when did you move here?"

"Just this week," I said, my confidence building. Regina couldn't hurt me, not here. She no longer even had age over me, and instead of feeling old in the face of her youthful beauty, I felt wiser, more authoritive. I was not afraid. "I was just passing through, actually, when I heard that there was an opening."

"She's a great teacher, Mom," Paige said, sounding a little worried.

Regina narrowed her eyes, and we continued to stare each other down, waiting for the other too make the first move. Suddenly one of her sickeningly sweet smiles dominated her face. "Well, that is good to hear. Welcome to Storybrooke…Ms. Swan."

Regina took Paige's arm and all but dragged her away. "Bye, Henry!" she called over her shoulder.

"Bye, Paige!" Henry frowned once they were gone. "Man, glad _my _mom isn't like that. She's kinda scary."

I scoffed. "Ain't that the truth."

"Paige says her mom is the mayor here."

I had to roll my eyes about that one. Of _course _Regina would make herself mayor. It was the closest thing to queen one could be in a small town. Well, I considered myself the victor of our first standoff, the first of probably many, and now she knew.

* * *

We worked hard to get our apartment into living order. Ruby came by occasionally with food, courtesy of Granny, which was much appreciated. Emma allowed me to decorate in the shabby-chic style that I liked, keeping her more modern furnishings to her room. But she won the argument on the sofa, because even if the one we ended up buying wasn't as pretty as the one I'd picked, it was indeed a lot more comfortable.

Fred and Elsa were overjoyed that we'd found a place and were settling in alright. They were preparing for their trip to Florida, and mentioned perhaps having Junior drive them to Storybrooke to see our new home, but I made non-committal comments about that. I wasn't entirely sure how the curse on Storybrooke worked, if they'd even be able to get in.

I searched surreptitiously for Charming, but had seen no sign of him, and had no way of asking about him. Who knew what his name was there. I considered going to Rumplestiltskin, who I learned ran a pawn shop of all things, but I decided that the less contact I had with him the better.

But being a teacher meant I had the biggest network of information available. Children.

It was clear that they repeated the same grade over and over went unnoticed by the kids. They had memories of previous school years, but none of them could come up with any details. When I asked the class at large if they all had been born in Storybrooke, they each looked as if it was such an unusual question, and all spoke the same answer, "I guess."

I also asked if any of them had ever been outside of Storybrooke that they could remember. None of them had.

It quickly became evident to me that Storybrooke was enchanted so that no one could leave, and outsiders couldn't enter, save for infrequent delivery people. As our remaining belongings from home were able to be shipped into Storybrooke, but the delivery man seemed dazed, and never said a word.

Another thing that was abundantly clear was that Regina was feared by all, and was very powerful. More powerful than any mayor had a right to be. The only person that was possibly more feared and powerful than Regina, was Mr. Gold.

And I had the pleasure of being present for Emma and Regina's first meeting.

We were at the park, watching Henry play with Paige. Regina marched up, as prim and proper as usual, but looking fit to be tied.

"Paige Mills, come here. Now."

"Uh oh," Paige mumbled.

"Are you in trouble?" Henry asked.

Regina looked up from Paige, narrowing her eyes at me, then saw Emma. "Who are you?"

Emma quirked an eyebrow, bristling visibly at the woman's tone. "Who's asking?"

I decided that introductions were in order. While I was uneasy about Regina being anywhere near my daughter, it was best to lay everything out right away. "This is my daughter, Mayor Mills, Emma."

Regina's eyes flared, and she glared at Emma as if her suspicions were confirmed. Emma didn't flinch though, as I knew she wouldn't.

"I suppose you're this boy's mother," Regina hissed.

"Yeah."

"My Paige is supposed to be home right now, doing her chores. Not at the park. This is the second time this week your _son _talked her into coming."

"He didn't talk me into it!" Paige defended.

"Quiet, Paige. I don't think this boy is a good influence on you."

"Look, lady," Emma said. "Sorry your kid disobeyed you, but that isn't my fault, or Henry's. We didn't know."

"It's true, Mom!" Paige pleaded. "It's my fault."

"So you're lying, now?" Regina glared at Emma. "My Paige never lied until she became friends with that _boy_, and I don't think she should be anymore. Come on, Paige," she granted me one last withering look before turning on her heel and stalking away.

Paige followed after, casting sad, apologetic looks over her shoulder.

"I can't be Paige's friend anymore?" Henry asked, near tears.

"Don't worry, Henry," I could hear it in Emma's voice. Challenge accepted. I had to hide my smirk. With any other person in the world I might have advised Emma to let it go, it wasn't worth starting a fight. But if Emma wanted to fight Regina, she could be my guest. Regina didn't have her magic here to protect her, and my girl was a force to be reckoned with. "She can't keep you apart at school. And besides, she didn't _expressly_ forbid you to be around her. Just that she didn't think you should be friends."

I knew I should tell my daughter not to teach such manipulative techniques to her ten year old, but I was too busy beaming in pride.


	22. Make Her Believe

**Ok, kids, I'm not going to be having this much free time in the afternoons soon, so updates may not be a daily thing much longer! But since the next few are finished, it doesn't take much time to update, so here ya go! **

**I'm so glad you all liked My Regina/Paige twist! I was hoping you'd be surprised! **

**This chapter...actually I'm not crazy about it. But it's building up to something big happening in chapter 23, so stay tuned!**

**As always, thanks so much for the reviews/favs/follows!**

* * *

Emma's leave was up, so she headed out before dawn the following Saturday to go to work in Augusta.

Meanwhile I spent the morning trying to email August again. By then I was truly getting worried. He'd never gone so long without sending word. I kept trying to rationalize that he could be on a mission, and simply wasn't able, but thoughts of limbs blown off in landmines plagued my dreams.

Before I could worry too much about that, I received a phone call that gave me something brand new to worry about.

Emma had been in a car accident, and was in jail.

"I wasn't drinking!" Emma was insisting from inside the cell when I flew into the police station fifteen minutes later. "There was a wolf in the middle of the road."

"A wolf?" Graham asked disbelievingly with a hint of amusement.

I for one, however, was anything _but _amused. "Why is my daughter in _here_ instead of the hospital?" I demanded. "Emma, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mom," Emma groaned.

I didn't notice someone else storm in behind me until her shrill voice was making me grimace. "Graham, Paige is missing…" Regina stopped dead when she saw Emma and me. Graham, ever the hero, backed away in the face of two unhappy mothers.

Regina snorted in Emma's direction, nose wrinkling in disgust. "You're in jail. Why am I not surprised?"

"It was a mistake," Emma growled. "Now let me out!"

"What do you mean, Paige is missing?" I asked, concerned.

Regina sneered at me. "She wasn't in her room when I went to check on her."

"Mom," Emma said. "Where's Henry?"

"I left him at home," I told her. "He was still asleep."

"You sure?"

I furrowed my brow. I hadn't checked, but he was a ten-year-old boy on a Saturday, meaning he usually slept in until at least nine. I left a note for him on the counter, but figured he'd probably still be asleep by the time I got back.

Emma gave me a meaningful look when I didn't answer and I groaned in response. Great. Henry really _was _his mother's son.

Regina looked back and forth between us during our silent conversation in distaste, finally stomping a foot. "Will someone tell me where my daughter is?!"

Emma leaned her arms on the bars and propped her chin against one of them. "Maybe if you let me out of here, I can help look. I'm good at finding people," she glared at Graham. "I'm a cop, too."

The thing was, I could tell that Emma knew exactly where Paige and Henry were, and I had a pretty good hunch as well.

* * *

I went home, leaving Emma to find the kids and deal with Regina, but later she told me that they indeed found them together at Paige's "castle" at the park.

"I feel bad for her," Emma said later. "She's a sweet kid, and Henry adores her. But her mom…damn. The apple must fall far from the tree."

"Tell me about it," I muttered, sipping my cocoa. "She's struggling. Regina…she takes care of her, I can tell. But I don't think Paige feels loved."

Emma shook her head. "That sucks. And now after this, she's even more convinced that Henry is a bad influence. Can you believe that? Henry? Bad? Those words don't even belong in the same sentence."

"Should really lock your door…"

Emma and I both screamed and jumped out of our chairs at the sudden, male voice in the room.

"August!" Emma shrieked. "Damn it to hell, you scared the shit out of us!"

"Good to see you too, baby sister," August said, grinning as he dumped his bags on the floor.

"Auggie!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms around him.

He kissed my cheek. "Hi, Mom. I mean it about that lock, though…"

"Where have you _been_?" I scolded, smacking his arm. "We haven't heard from you in _months_! Why didn't you tell us you were coming?"

"How did you even _find_ us?" Emma asked, still annoyed at being so startled, but going in for a hug regardless.

"I went home first," he said. "I was surprised to see everything that's changed! Granma and Grampa told me where you moved. Once I got here it was a simple matter of asking, 'Can you point me in the direction of the new…' and Granny pointed me here," he grinned.

"Auggie!" Henry yelled, bounding down the stairs and into August's waiting arms. I frowned at the way August stumbled as he caught the boy, seeming to favor his left leg, but then Henry was getting quite big.

"Hey, my man!" August laughed. "How's it going?"

"It's been good," Henry said. "Except I got into trouble this morning."

"He and his girlfriend snuck out against her mother's wishes," Emma explained.

Henry turned various shades of red. "She isn't my girlfriend! She had something to tell me!"

"Whoa, I _have _been gone long," August said, ruffling the boy's hair.

"What brings you home so early?" I asked him. "Not that I'm complaining, of course. But you weren't supposed to be up for leave until March."

"Yeah…" August rubbed the back of his neck. "'Bout that. I got hurt."

"Hurt?!" Emma and I both exclaimed at once.

"Where?!" I demanded, reaching out to pat him down for injuries.

"I'm okay," he said, laughing and pushing me gently away. "It's not that bad. I hurt my leg and couldn't complete active duty. Since my tour was wrapping up soon, I was moved to the reserves."

"You mean you're home?" Emma asked excitedly. "Like, as in, for good?"

"Yeah," he said with a warm smile. "For good."

Emma squealed. No really, Emma squealed and I was blown away because I hadn't heard Emma squeal since she was a teenager. She threw her arms around his waist, initiating what became a group hug.

"We should have a party," I decided. "Here, tonight!"

Emma agreed. "I'll get the stuff for Auggie's favorite dinner."

"Pot roast?!" he asked eagerly.

"But of course!" Emma said. "But first, there's something I have to do. Come on kid," she looked at Henry. "I know we're excited about Auggie being home, but to pay for your crimes you get to come help me fix that stupid sign."

August stared at her. "Why do _you_ have to fix it?" a glare from her sent him into a fit of laughter. "Is _that _why there's a giant dent in your car? Nice one, twerp."

I smiled sweetly at Emma. "The sheriff isn't going to file the report of her arrest early this morning so long as she fixes it herself."

Emma glared daggers at both of us then pulled her whining son out the door.

August shook his head after she left. "This is what I get for being gone, I miss everything!"

All pretenses of mirth were gone for me, though. "You haven't contacted us in months, August! Do you have any idea how old Emma turned this year?"

He hung his head, turning serious. "I know. I hadn't realized, but I know now."

"And surely you've noticed a few familiar things about this town?"

He snorted. "You mean old Granny running the local diner and Red wearing next to nothing? Yeah, I noticed. Tell me you've talked to Emma!"

I bit my lower lip and looked up at him guiltily.

August sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "We've screwed this up, haven't we? We were supposed to _prepare _her for this! She can't break the curse if she doesn't believe in it!"

"What was I supposed to say? 'Oh, sweetie, I forgot to tell you, my name isn't Mary Margaret it's actually Snow White and you have been selected to save an entire kingdom of fairy tale characters. No pressure.' It isn't as simple as just _telling_ her, not anymore."

"Then what _do _we do?"

I sighed, leaning against the banister. "I wish I knew, Auggie. I really wish I knew."

We were both quiet for a while, lost in our own thoughts, when he asked, "Have you seen him yet?" I knew who he was referring to, but also knew that it wasn't the person he really wanted to ask about.

I shook my head. "No, and I don't know how to look since everyone's names are different. I did…" I hesitated, looking into his still-boyish face. "I did see your father."

His features went slack, and his eyes lit up in both trepidation and joy. "You did? He's like the others? The same, I mean?"

I nodded. "He hasn't changed a day, no one has. I had no idea this would happen to them. His name is Marco here. I saw him the other day at the diner."

August walked into the kitchen and I frowned at his visible limp. He sat down heavily on a stool. "I don't know what I'll do when I see him."

I sat down beside him and smoothed his short-cropped hair. "He isn't going to remember you, sweetheart. But soon the curse will break, and you'll get your second chance with him."

He smiled a little sadly. "Then we gotta get the savior to believe."

"But how? Auggie, you know how Emma is. She's a realist. She's going to need proof, and we don't _have _proof."

August fidgeted in his seat, adjusting himself uncomfortably. "Then we'll find some. If no one from home has aged in nearly thirty years, then that must mean that there is magic here _somewhere_. This may be the land without magic, but that doesn't mean it _can't _exist here. We'll get her to believe, Mom. We've gotten her this far. This is what she was born to do."

I bristled at that, as I did anytime at the idea that my daughter came into existence for the soul purpose of breaking a curse. Emma was more than that, so much more. She may not have realized it yet, but I would make her see. I had to.

* * *

As promised, Emma and I (mostly I) made August pot roast for dinner, as well as his favorite bread pudding for dessert. It made me inordinately happy to have all of my children together under one roof, even if the absence of Fred and Elsa made it seem a little over-quiet.

I fretted about August's leg, but he refused to talk about it, or even let me see it. But he was full of stories about his troupe, so I let it slide for the time being, knowing I'd get it out of him eventually. There were things I knew that happened during war that he wouldn't say, and probably would never tell Emma or me, but that I understood all too well, and just reveled in having my son back.

Emma and I were cleaning up the dinner dishes while Henry and August were yelling at a video game.

"So me and Henry had a talk today," Emma began quietly, glancing into the living room every so often.

"About what?" I asked.

She chewed her bottom lip, a habit she picked up from me. "Apparently Paige was talking to him today about being adopted, about wanting to know who her real parents are…and it got him asking about, well, _his _dad."

"Oh," I said simply. Henry, like any child, had asked a time or two where his father was. But unlike Emma had been, he wasn't persistent, and Emma had never given him any details.

"_And _about my dad," she continued. "He may start asking you about that one next, so heads up."

'_If he only knew,' _I thought. "What did you tell him?"

Emma was chewing on her lip again. "Here's the thing…"

Uh oh. When Emma began a sentence with "here's the thing," it rarely meant anything good. "Emma…what did you say?"

"I just couldn't tell him the truth!" she said defensively. "I looked into his big, beautiful brown eyes and I couldn't tell him who and what Neal was! How do you say that to a kid? I mean, I officially no longer blame you for not telling me about my father. Whatever it was about it, you clearly had your reasons."

I tried to veer her back to the subject of _Henry's_ father. "So what _did _you tell him?"

Emma gasped and then rattled it out in one breath. "I told him that his father was a firefighter who died saving a family."

I closed my eyes and rested my hip on the counter. "And what happens if he finds out the truth?"

"He has no reason to. I'll never see Neal again, and Henry gets to believe his father was a hero, not a…" she glanced at her son again, checking to make sure he was immersed in his game. "Not a criminal and a deadbeat."

"I don't think lying is the answer, Emma."

She huffed defensively. "But you…"

"Never lied," I interrupted her. "Okay, maybe I didn't tell you the whole truth, but nothing I've ever said about your father was a lie."

Emma scowled and tossed the rag she was drying dishes with into the sink. "Who needs fathers…" she mumbled under her breath before joining the guys in the living room.

She no longer even _wanted _to know who David was. What had I done?


	23. He Was Mine

**Happy Friday! So how 'bout those promo pics yesterday? Lol. **

**There's really nothing I can say about this chapter, only that it took a long time before I was satisfied with it. So I'm just going to leave this here. Enjoy! **

* * *

Though Emma had agreed to stay in Storybrooke, she still hadn't fully _immersed_ herself,still working in Augusta, still not seeing anything different about the town other that what she considered a commonality of a "creepy small town." And it worried me, because I was beginning to think that her being _in town_ was what made time move.

On the days she went back to Augusta, things felt…slower. Repetitive. And when she returned, the town almost literally brightened.

An instance of her changing things came when she intervened in a situation a young pregnant girl had gotten herself into.

She'd told me about meeting the nineteen year old at Granny's after a particularly nasty exchange with Regina. She said that she had tried to encourage her, tried to convince her she needed to grow up if she wanted to keep her kid, which the girl did though no one thought she could. I knew that Emma empathized with her.

But I did not expect Mr. Gold to show up at our door the next day, asking if Emma could help him find the same girl without getting her into legal trouble after she broke into his shop, maced him, and stole something from him.

When he showed Emma a picture of her, I almost hit the floor.

'_Ella?!'_

Long forgotten memories of the young cinder girl resurfaced in a rush with a pounding of my head.

Ella and I had become pregnant at the same time, but both of our joy was dashed by Ella's deal with Rumplestiltskin gone bad, his capture, Thomas's subsequent disappearance, and then over everything was Regina's ominous threat to my family.

And yet still, despite everything we were going through, we would spend nights at each other's castles and talk late into the night about our children as if everything was going to be okay. I used Charming's mother's pendant on her that told the sex of one's firstborn, and revealed to her that she too, would have a girl. And we would lie in bed together, whispering in the dark about how our daughters would grow up together and be the best of friends.

Yet another thing that didn't work out the way it was supposed to.

Emma accepted the job Gold offered, and ended up discovering that he was going to buy Ella's – or Ashley's rather – baby.

I wanted to be angry, I mean, thirty years and a curse and he _still _couldn't give it up? But then, Ella _should _have read that contract before signing, because one thing I knew well about The Dark One was that no one went back on a deal with him.

Which made what happened at the hospital all the more frightening.

* * *

I left work early when Emma called, saying she'd found Ashley in the woods as the girl had tried to escape, and that she was in labor, and met them at the hospital.

"Is Ashley alright?" I asked Emma once I got there. "The baby?"

"She's fine," Emma said distractedly, and I saw her zone in on Gold who was at the coffee machine. "Baby's fine."

My heart leapt into my throat. "Emma…" I hissed. "Be careful…"

She waved me off and stomped over to him, all cop, while I followed quickly to listen to their conversation.

"You're not getting that kid," Emma snapped at him.

"Actually, Miss Swan, we have an agreement," Gold said smugly. "My agreements are _always_ honored. If not, I'm going to have to press charges and that baby is going to end up in the system. And that would be a pity."

I watched as Emma's jaw twitched. "It's not gonna happen."

"I like your confidence. It's charming. But she _did _break into _my _shop."

"Let me guess, to steal a contract?"

Gold shrugged. "Who knows what she was after?"

I hadn't many opportunities to see what gave Emma her reputation as a hardass and intimidator at work, but this was one of those times. She stepped closer to Gold, staring him down. "No jury in the world will put a woman in jail whose only reason for breaking and entering was to keep her child. I'm willing to roll the dice that contract doesn't even stand up. Are you? Not to mention what might come out about you in the process. Somehow, I suspect there is more to you than a simple pawn broker. You really wanna start that fight?"

No way could I have held back my grin. That, ladies and gentlemen, is _my _daughter.

I held my breath, waiting for Gold to speak, watching him size Emma up, before his eyes reflected similar admiration to my own, and he broke into a smile that was eerily reminiscent of his former imp days.

"I like you, Miss Swan," he said, swaying side to side. "You're not afraid of me, and that's either cocky or presumptuous. Either way, I'd rather have you on my side."

Emma relaxed slightly. "So, she can keep the baby?"

"Not just yet. There's still the matter of my agreement with Miss Boyd."

"Tear it up."

"That's not what I do. You see, contracts – deals- well, they're the very foundation of civilized existence. So, I put it to you now. If you want Ashley to have that baby, are you willing to make a deal with me?"

Oh no. Not gonna happen. "Emma!" I exclaimed, able to stay quiet no longer. "Emma, no!"

Emma snapped around, irritation flashing in her features. "I got this, Mom," she said.

I pressed to her side, speaking lowly in her ear. "You can't make a deal with this man, Emma."

"Why?" she asked. "What do you know about him?"

"Yes, dearie," Gold said, leaning forward on his cane. "What _do _you know about me?"

"I…" I stammered. "I don't _need_ to know anything about him to know that he's dangerous, Emma. If he went to these lengths for his deal with Ashley, who knows what he'll expect from you?"

Emma frowned at me, then at Gold. "What do you want?"

Gold shrugged, smiling. "Oh, I don't know just yet. You'll owe me a favor."

"No, Emma!" I hissed. This was the _worst _kind of deal to strike with him! "Don't!"

"I can handle this myself," Emma said, then stepped away from me so she could face Gold. "Deal."

I groaned and buried my face in my hands. But then, knowing Emma, even knowing the truth about Gold probably wouldn't have prevented her from making the deal. Just like it wouldn't have prevented me.

* * *

I peeked through the window while Emma visited Ashley, feeling a pang of nostalgia at the sight of the mother and daughter. But then I shuddered at the thought of poor Ella being pregnant for twenty-eight years.

I learned later that Thomas (or Sean, that is) returned and he and Ashley got back together. Hearing about the reunion, knowing the truth behind their separation, made me happy, but it also made me that much more anxious to find my husband.

I thought back again to all those nights Ella and I spent discussing our daughters' first ball. Well, maybe Emma missed out on being the princess she was supposed to be, but thanks to that quirk of the curse, it wasn't too late for Alexandra.

* * *

"So, Graham may have offered me a job," Emma told us the next morning as we all walked together to Granny's for breakfast.

"Really?" I asked, my eyebrows lifting.

"Even after _arresting_ you last week?" August asked.

Emma jutted her chin out at him. "He said he was in need of a deputy, and well, I'm qualified. But I don't know if I'm gonna accept it."

I frowned. "But why? It's a step up from a regular officer, and you wouldn't have to drive so far."

"Yeah…but…when I became a cop, I…this isn't what I wanted," she gestured around her to the town at large.

"You mean you didn't want Mayberry?"

She smirked. "Pretty much."

"Hey," August said. "Small towns can surprise you, there could be a huge case just ready to be broken into, and you just don't know it."

"I doubt it," she scoffed. "I liked the city."

August raised one eyebrow. "But what is there for you in the city, really? Nothing tying you there. And look what you've already done, with that Ashley girl."

Emma looked from him, to me, then at her side where Henry walked, grinning up at her, and sighed. "Guess you're right. I guess it wouldn't hurt to think about it.

"Hey, Nana?" Henry asked, sidling up beside me.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Whatever happened to your husband?"

I looked up at Emma while I floundered for a response, but she just looked interested in what I would say.

"Um, well, it's kind of a long story."

"What was his name?"

"Charming," I said automatically, without thinking.

"Charming?" both Henry and Emma asked together.

I chuckled and ignored the amused look from August. "It was a nickname. His name was David, Henry."

"Like my middle name!" Henry exclaimed.

"Charming, huh?" Emma asked, quirking an eyebrow. "As in Prince?"

I smiled softly. "He was mine."

* * *

Granny's was packed, and all the tables were taken so we perched ourselves at the counter and I paraded my solider son around with no small amount of pride. Even if these people didn't know they knew me, I still had an almost immature desire to show them how I and my family turned out.

Ruby flirted shamelessly with August, which wasn't saying much since she flirted with everyone, but she paid him special attention which made his face turn the color of her name. It was a little odd for me to see my son and my best friend dance around one another like that, but since she hadn't aged, it was kind of adorable.

I listened while Henry regaled August about school and Paige, and her scary mother. (August had looked up sharply at me after Henry's description of Paige's mom, and all I could do was nod meaningfully.) Henry had barely stopped talking since his uncle arrived.

The diner was noisy, and so I felt more than heard someone take a seat at my right, though I was facing left toward the kids. But I stiffened in reaction, an odd, yet familiar feeling coming over me.

"Morning, Ruby," he said.

My heart accelerated to near dangerous levels and my breath quickened. I didn't need to look at him to know that voice, that voice that had haunted my dreams for half of my life.

"What can I get ya?" Ruby asked in her playfully flirtatious way.

"The usual, thanks," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

I had to steel my expression, get my raging emotions under control. I thought I'd managed, I thought I was prepared, but the moment I looked to my right and saw Charming's face, still exactly as I remembered it, it was all I could do not to throw my arms around him and kiss him senseless.

I held my breath when he turned to me suddenly and smiled. "Hi."

I realized that I was staring blatantly, so I forced myself to utter a friendly "Hello," in return and made myself look back at my food.

But I still felt his eyes on me. "I'm sorry, have we met?" he asked. "You look familiar."

I struggled to remember what words were and how to use them while Ruby plopped two coffees in front of him. "She must have one of those faces, cause I thought the same thing! This is our new Elementary school teacher."

"Oh, that's right, I heard," he said, still looking at me and crinkling his eyes in that happy way I loved so much. "I'm David," he held out his hand.

I was surprised to hear his name was actually David, and nearly rolled my eyes despite myself. Instead I reached for his hand and shook it. When our skin touched it felt like electricity shot through me. He must have felt something too, because he pulled away a little abruptly, but the smile never left his face.

"I'm Mary Margaret," I managed to find my voice at last, though the name felt heavy on my tongue. "This is my grandson, Henry," I gestured to my left. "And my children, August and Emma," it was enormous, introducing my husband to his own daughter and grandson, yet it was also meaningless because neither party had any clue.

Emma and Henry were smiling politely, but August was staring at me, trying to look pleasant but I could tell he was carefully observing my reaction.

"You have a lovely family," David said, waving at Henry.

"Thank you."

'_I found him, now what?'_ I thought dizzily. A dull ache was growing in my temples.

The door to the diner opened, and from behind David walked a woman I knew that I knew, but I couldn't quite place her. The only reason I noticed her at all was because she was heading straight for David.

"Hey, sweetheart," the woman said, and leaned against David's side with a hand on his shoulder.

My stomach dropped.

David turned his face and accepted the woman's kiss.

My heart thumped loudly, banging in my ears, but my world was stopping. It felt like it was ending.

"Here's your coffee," David said to the woman, giving her a smile that used to be reserved for me. "This is Mary Margaret, she and her family just moved here," he turned back to me. "This is my wife, Katherine."

It was like the air was sucked forcefully from my lungs, like I'd been hit by a bus. I refused to believe what my eyes and ears were telling me. My chest…it actually, _physically_ hurt. Nothing in my life had ever hurt like that. Nothing in my life could have ever _prepared _me for that.

'_This isn't happening. Please, God, let this be a nightmare.'_

By some miracle, I was able to plaster on a smile and nodded to Katherine – to Princess Abigail as I realized her to be – and politely excused myself. It was a feat I later marveled at.

What little rationality I had left kept yelling at me '_he's cursed! He's cursed!' _But it simply couldn't change the fact that I'd just watched _my husband_ greet and kiss another woman, and introduce _her _as his wife. Nothing could make twenty-eight lonely years thrown back into your face okay.

Once I was out of sight of the diner, I broke into a run, achy knees be damned. I was desperate to get away from the prying eyes around me, desperate to get away from the spot my heart was ripped from my chest as surely as if Regina had done it herself. I was vaguely aware of August chasing me, calling my name, but I ignored him and charged up the stairs to the apartment.

It was when I finally made it inside that I broke. I completely and utterly broke.

'_His wife. His WIFE!_'

I moved away from the door, knowing August wasn't far behind, and went into the kitchen where I slid to the floor, leaning against the counter. I buried my head in my hands and allowed the wracking sobs to come.

I didn't even hear August open the door or come to kneel in front of me. "Mom?" he whispered, putting a hand on my head. "Mama, look at me."

I shook my head violently, pressing my face almost painfully into my palms. "He has a wife, August! A _fucking wife!_" it was literally the first time I had ever uttered that particular curse word native to this world, but I needed _something_ to release some of my anger, my agony.

"I'm sorry, Mom, I'm so, so sorry."

"How could this happen?!" I raised my eyes to him at last, almost blind from the tears. "We promised we'd wait for one another! We promised! We said we'd always find each other!"

"Mom, listen, he's under a _curse_! You know that!" he took my hand and squeezed it hard. "He doesn't remember! If he did, you know he would never have married someone else! When Emma breaks the curse, he'll remember!"

"It won't matter!" I screamed, shoving him away, and due to the way he was kneeling he fell roughly back against the other counter. "It won't matter then! He's married to her! He's probably been married the entire twenty-eight years! Five, August. We knew each other for _five years_! And most of that was spent constantly trying to find each other! Maybe he'll remember loving me, but it won't take away the _twenty-eight years_ with that woman! It's too late!"

August moved to sit beside me, and even though I half-heartedly pushed him away a few more times, he wrapped his strong arms around me and rested his chin on my head, much like I'd done to him when he was little. He didn't even try to find words to comfort me. There were none.

So I buried my face into my son's shirt and wept.

Regina got what she wanted after all.


	24. Brand of Truth

**Super special shout-out to Mere-Brennan for leaving my 300th review! Thanks! I may or may not have done a happy dance. :) And another shout-out to 8 Navy Roses for being my 123rd follower! Make a wish. ;)**

**Thanks, everyone, for the continued reviews. They make for a very happy writer. :)**

* * *

After seeing Charming, and what the curse had done to him, to us, it was all I could do to keep from walking over to Regina's mayoral manor and beating her with her own stilettos. I didn't, of course, but the revelation wracked my very existence. A couple of sleepless nights later, I was shuffling about the tiny kitchen, making dinner while Henry and August had gone out for milk and eggs, leaving just Emma and me.

"Okay, Mom, what gives?" Emma asked, staring at me from the other end of the counter.

"What gives what?" I mumbled, not looking up from my task of stirring spaghetti sauce.

"You've been moping around ever since you got sick the other day. What's wrong? I thought you liked it here."

I attempted to give her a smile, but even I could feel how fake it was. I had explained away my abrupt departure from the diner by telling Emma and Henry that I'd been suddenly ill, and it wasn't far enough from the truth to be a lie. Only needed to get Henry to school had prevented Emma from checking on me herself that morning, leaving August to go after me, and I was glad for it. I'd been out of sorts and depressed ever since though, and it was foolish of me to not expect my daughter, who knew my every quirk and expression better than I did, to notice, and to be able to tell the difference between sick and unhappy. "I do like it here," I said softly.

"Do you miss Grampa and Granma?"

That was a reasonable, and mostly truthful explanation, so I went with it. "Yeah, I do. I guess I'm just a little homesick for them is all. I'll be okay."

Emma stared, and I could see her working that superpower of hers on me. How she developed such an innate talent to tell when people were lying, I'll never know. "That's not all though," it wasn't a question.

"Really, Emma, there's nothing."

"Remember when I was a teenager and I pushed you away? How you said I could tell you anything?"

"Yes…"

In a welcome relief from questioning, August and Henry got home, and to my surprise, so did Geppetto.

"Hey, Mom!" August exclaimed, nearly bouncing with excitement. "This is Marco, I hope you don't mind, but I invited him for dinner…" he looked a little uncertain for a moment.

"Of course I don't mind!" I enthused sincerely, truly glad for a distraction from my heartache. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Marco. Please come in, I hope you like spaghetti."

"Thank you," he said in that same soft accent I remembered, holding his hat in his hands and giving a half bow. "Indeed I do!"

"Guess what?" August asked, and I almost giggled at how boyish he looked right then. "Marco runs this woodshop, and since I know a thing or two about it, he offered me a room above the shop in exchange for an apprenticeship."

My eyes widened in understanding of how much this meant to August. It only seemed natural that Geppetto would be a woodworker here, being the man who carved August himself, and I felt tears welling at the thought of August being given the opportunity to spend time with his father. Even if it was as just an apprentice and tenant.

"That's great, Auggie!" I exclaimed, making sure I was conveying with my eyes how happy I was for him.

* * *

"That was a delicious dinner, Mary Margaret, thank you," Marco said.

"You're very welcome," I responded. "Auggie, when are you moving in?"

"Tomorrow," he said happily.

I grinned at Marco. "He's a good boy, you'll love having him around."

Marco looked almost as happy as August. "I will appreciate the help so much. I cannot afford to pay him, unfortunately, but I can let him live there for free," he leaned toward me. "I never had children, you see. My wife and I, we tried, but it was not meant to be," he chuckled. "I always wanted a son, though. Thank you for loaning me yours!"

I smiled some more and bit my lip, trying not to cry. '_No, Geppetto,'_ I thought. '_Thank you for loaning me _yours_.'_

* * *

One afternoon after school found Henry and me strolling leisurely around town, looking in shop windows. Henry, it seemed, had picked up on my melancholy as well and declared that with the unseasonably warm weather, it was a perfect day for ice cream. His concern and attempt to cheer me up warmed me like no other. And after a cone of double-chocolate brownie for him and mocha chip for me, I indeed felt in higher spirits, so I decided a little exploring was in order, and my grandson readily agreed.

"I like how we can walk everywhere," Henry told me conversationally, then gave me a surprised delight by slipping his small hand into mine. He was just in the beginning phases of growing out of public displays of affection with his mother and grandmother, but he was an affectionate boy by nature, and he seemed to know that small things like holding someone's hand was a real comfort.

I made a noise of agreement. "Not like back home, where the nearest store is fifteen miles away!"

"It's like this place is stuck in time," he said, pointing out an electronics store that looked more like an antique store.

I snorted, wanting to tell him how close to the truth he was, when we passed the pawn shop.

"Whoa…" Henry breathed, staring through the window. "Nana, look at _that_!"

Before I could stop him, he was darting through the door, causing a little bell to jingle.

I ran after him, pausing in the doorway. "Henry!" I hissed. "Come on!"

Oblivious to my discomfort, Henry was busy admiring a shield. A shield that, astonishingly, was one from King George's army.

"Man, this is so cool!" Henry exclaimed. I could tell he was itching to touch, but knew better.

I took another looked around, checking for the proprietor of the shop, glancing over a hoard of various objects, and my eyes landed on a mobile hanging from the ceiling. It had been Emma's mobile, in her nursery back in the old land. The dwarfs had carved the unicorns by hand out of dwarf diamonds. I'd thought it lost forever.

Gasping, I reached up, lightly touching one of the sparkling unicorns when a sudden voice made me jump.

"Lovely, isn't it, Dearie?"

I spun around, wondering how he had appeared without me noticing, especially considering he now had a limp and a cane. But then I remembered. Rumplestiltskin.

I took a small step toward and in front of Henry, trying to make it look casual, but his gaze followed me intently. "It's beautiful," I said.

"A young man came in here not but a week ago. He seemed…charmed by it as well."

I flinched, not liking the barely concealed glee in his eyes.

"You're Mr. Gold, right?" Henry asked.

"That I am, boy," he said, leaning on his gold-topped cane. "And you are?"

He smiled politely. "Henry."

"My grandson," I finished for him.

Gold's eyebrows shot up. Had I actually surprised him? "Grandson, my, oh my. Just look at you, Dearie, all grown up with a family of your own."

I nodded. What game was he at this time?"

"Have you met our…" he smirked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "…beloved mayor? She usually likes to make herself known and despised by everyone."

I couldn't hide a smirk of my own. "Oh, I've met her alright. Delightful woman."

Henry's head snapped up to me, giving me a look that said, 'you're joking, right?' but then he grinned conspiratorially when he realized that I was being sarcastic too. Sarcasm simply wasn't a common occurrence from his Nana. "Her daughter," I continued. "Paige is in Henry's class. Mayor Mills…uh, doesn't strike me as the motherly type."

Gold chuckled. "No, that she is not. She adopted Paige some years ago. I'd be careful if I were you," he jerked his head pointedly at Henry. "Her agenda may be questionable at best, but she's protective of the lass. I know _you_ don't fear her, but I'd be careful whom you let the young boy spend time with."

"What's he talking about, Nana?" Henry asked.

I shook my head. "Nothing. Thank you, Mr. Gold, but I can handle Regina."

"Oh I don't doubt that at all. I don't doubt you _or _that daughter of yours," he limped over to the mobile and took it down then handed it to me. "Consider it a welcome gift."

Taking gifts from Rumplestiltskin was dangerous business, I knew, but refusing them could be even worse. Besides, I wanted it, and it was rightfully mine anyway. I burned to ask him questions – I had a million of them – but he seemed set to play this silly game of riddles and innuendo. Not to mention Henry was beside me. So instead I asked. "What about the man you said was interested in this?"

"He doesn't have children," he said offhandedly. "And I don't foresee any in the near future. He and his wife are quite at odds ever since he woke up from that coma."

"Coma?!" I exclaimed worriedly. "What coma?"

"You didn't know?" he pretended to look surprised. He wasn't. "No, I suppose not, you're new here. But I really shouldn't say, it isn't my business."

I fumed. Since when did he care about that? I could see from the look on his face that he wasn't going to elaborate, so I didn't push my luck. "Well, thank you for the mobile, Mr. Gold. Have a nice day."

"Wait, Nana," Henry said, pulling on my sleeve. "Look at this book!"

He pointed to a glass cabinet that held a book called Once Upon a Time. It was large, and bound in leather.

I admit, it struck my curiosity, but I was anxious to get my grandson out of that shop, so I took the mobile in one hand and Henry's hand in my other and made for the door.

"Oh, and do give that charming daughter of yours, Emma, my best," Gold called after us.

* * *

Only when we were well away from the shop did I release Henry's hand. "What was _that_ about?" he asked. "Nana, do you know Mr. Gold?"

"No, of course not. Why would you ask that?"

He gave me one of his typical no-nonsense looks that he inherited from his mother. "I'm ten, not stupid. The way you talked to him, it was like you were talking in code."

I stopped mid-step and stared at Henry with admiration. There was no sense in arguing. Where August was empathic and Emma could spot a liar from a mile away, Henry was astonishingly perceptive. "You're awful smart, know that?"

"Yep," he said, ending the word with a pop. "Just tell me he isn't an old boyfriend."

"Lord no!" I exclaimed, laughing despite myself. "Mr. Gold is…look, yes, Mr. Gold and I once knew one another, in a different life. But he's a dangerous man, Henry."

"Dangerous?" now Henry looked a little frightened.

"Not like that," I said, resuming walking, guiding him with a hand on the back of his neck. "I'm not saying he'd ever hurt you or anything. I honestly don't believe he'd ever hurt any of us," _Without provocation, _I added to myself, but wouldn't tell Henry that. "I always felt like he liked me in his own…weird way. But he's a liar and only interested in himself. Just stay away from him, okay? And Henry?" I stopped again then knelt down in front of him so that I knew I had his full attention. "I know you like Paige, and it's fine that you're her friend, but you have to _promise _me that you'll stay far, far away from her mother. This is important, sweetie, do you understand?"

"I promise, Nana," he said sincerely. "I don't like her anyway. And I hate how she treats Paige. Sometimes Paige thinks her mother thinks she's crazy."

I frowned. "Why?"

"Because there's a man who follows her around and…"

Okay, now my grandson had me seriously worried. "What?! Henry, what are you talking about? What man?!"

"I've never seen him, and Paige says she only _thinks _she's seen him. But her mom doesn't believe her. Paige isn't afraid of him, she thinks that he's like her guardian angel or something, but Regina says that's ridiculous. And Paige says she's asked her mom a lot of questions, like how come no one ever came to Storybrooke before us, or what happened to her real parents, and Regina just brushes her aside. I feel bad."

I stroked his hair sympathetically. "I know, baby. Me too. But I'm going to have a little talk with her about this man following her. If it's true, this is serious, Henry."

Henry shrugged, clearly not convinced that it was anything to worry about, but then he was a blessedly sheltered and innocent little boy. But I too wondered about Paige's real parents. I didn't know the motives behind adopting the girl, but I wouldn't have put it past Regina to take a child from her biological family for no other reason than she wanted one.

* * *

After the initial devastation of seeing Charming, I made myself come to terms with it for the time. I still wanted to see him, if only from a distance. It was almost like a drug, one time wasn't enough.

I realized quickly that he went to the diner for coffee every morning at 7:15, so it became a ritual for me as well. I knew it was masochistic, especially the mornings _she _was there with him, but I couldn't help myself.

Gold has said something about him being in a _coma_. I wondered almost obsessively how and why that happened. Was it connected somehow to the wounds he received when I went through the wardrobe? No one had aged in twenty-eight years, so I supposed it was possible. When had he awoken? He seemed healthy enough. I wanted so badly to ask, and it killed me that I couldn't.

Most days he'd come in, and either grab coffee to go for him and…that woman, or sit at a booth and order breakfast. Sometimes alone, sometimes not. It was one of those mornings when he was alone that every table was occupied, so he stopped in front of mine.

"Don't suppose you'd mind if I share?"

"Of course not," I said, perhaps a little too brightly, and gestured for him to have a seat.

"You're in here about as often as I am," he laughed, sliding into the booth opposite me.

Uh oh, had I been too obvious? "Granny makes a mean omelet."

"Sure does," he agreed, and ended up ordering the same. "So, how are you liking Storybrooke?"

"It's lovely, I just love walking along the ocean."

He nodded enthusiastically. "Me too. How are those fourth-graders?"

I bit my lower lip to stop from giggling like a lovesick teenager, but I couldn't help but be thrilled that he remembered details from our first (cursed) meeting. "Wonderful. I've never had a class quite so eager to learn something new. We're building birdhouses this week."

He looked genuinely interested. "Really? That's so cool. More teachers should be like you, introducing kids to special things like that besides just reading and writing. I saw that you were taking them on a nature walk the other day."

"You did?" I asked in surprise. I couldn't believe I didn't see him.

To my further surprise, he blushed, as if he'd been caught at something. "Yeah…I was passing by on a walk and saw you with them. They all act like they worship the ground you walk on."

It was my turn to blush. "Oh, they're all so sweet. And Henry is really thriving here. He never had many friends before, but now the whole class just loves him."

"That's great," he said.

"Heya, David!" a big, burly man with red hair stopped beside the table. "How ya doing, buddy? How's Kathy?"

David smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Doing great, thanks."

I knew the man; he was the captain of King George's army and repugnant man if there ever was one. Charming had told me of some of the vile things he'd learned of him while living in George's castle. He and Charming loathed one another, so seeing them act all buddy-buddy made me a tad queasy.

He glanced at me, nodding politely, and turned back to David. "Is this your mother?"

If one could die of humiliation, I would have curled up right then and there and done so.

"No!" David snapped, having the grace to sound outraged. "Mary Margaret is my friend, and not nearly old enough to be my mother."

It was a sweet sentiment, but I still wanted to die. Especially in light of that, physically at least, he was the same age as my daughter.

The man shrugged and walked away, and David rolled his eyes. "Ignore him, he's an idiot."

Despite my misery, I laughed a little. "It's okay."

"Can I let you in on a secret?" suddenly David looked so lost, that I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him. Not that I didn't constantly want to do that. But never had Charming ever looked quite so uncertain.

"Sure," I told him, nodding encouragingly.

He sighed. "I don't really know that guy. I don't even like him."

"But he…"

"Yeah, he says we go way back. Truth is, I was hoping you wouldn't notice the empty seats at the counter when I came over here to sit with you. I just get so tired of people I don't recognize talking to me like I should know them, and acting insulted when I don't. I'd much rather talk to you."

I ignored the flutter in my stomach at his last sentence. "You don't remember?"

"I was in a coma," he explained. "I don't know if you'd heard…"

"I heard it mentioned," I said. "But no details. That's terrible, though. How long?"

He scrunched up his face, like he was trying to remember. "I don't know, they told me I think, but I can't remember. A long time though. All I know, is I only just woke up about six weeks ago, as healthy as if I'd never been under. The doctors call me their miracle patient."

Six weeks? We'd been in Storybrooke exactly six weeks. "I'll say, you look fantastic for a man that was asleep for years."

He chuckled self-consciously. "Thanks. They said I just woke up, rambling on about finding someone, and escaped the hospital. They found me at the Toll Bridge."

I didn't know what to say. He'd been in a coma…all this time? My heart surged with hope that hadn't been there since the first time I saw him here. He woke up…looking for me.

"That's amazing," I said quietly.

"They tell me my name's David Nolan, that I'm married to Katherine, and that I have all these friends I can't even stand. I've recalled a few memories, so I know how I'm _supposed _to feel…but none of it is there, you know?"

I balled my hands into the hem of my dress, trying not to leap for joy.

David blanched slightly. "Damn, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be unloading all this on you. You must think I'm a wacko."

I chuckled. "I don't think you're a wacko, and I don't mind listening. I'm a pretty good listener, in fact."

"You are," he agreed, smiling again, and I would have done anything to keep that smile on his face. "It's easier to talk to you than it is with pretty much anyone else here. Look, I have to get to work. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," I said, and forced myself not to watch him leave.

Suddenly my day was much brighter.

* * *

There was still a bounce in my step when I got home that evening. I'd had to stay later to tutor a couple of students, so Henry had ridden the bus home and had beat me there.

"Hey, baby, is your mom home yet?"

"No ma'am," he said, not looking up from whatever he was reading on the couch.

"What do you want for dinner? Salmon or pasta?"

"Pasta," he replied distractedly.

I walked over to where he was sprawled across the cushion in that way only a young boy or a cat can. "What'cha got there?"

"A book."

"I can see that, where did you get it?" I'd never seen that particular book before, but it was very big and took up his entire lap.

When he looked up at me at last through the curtain of hair that was in need of a trimming, it was with a sheepish expression. Finally he lifted the massive tome to reveal the title, and I immediately recognized it as the one from Gold's shop.

"Henry! How did you get that? Did you go back in there after I told you not to?"

He bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Nana. I just ran in, bought it, and left. I didn't stay around and talk to Mr. Gold any or anything. I spent my birthday money that Auggie gave me."

I crossed my arms, not happy that my grandson had disobeyed me, but being mad at Henry was even harder than being mad at Emma. "I want to know everything Mr. Gold said to you."

Henry sighed and I thought he was about to roll his eyes, but he caught himself in time. "I just went in, asked how much the book cost, and he said it was sixty dollars. I told him that I didn't _have _sixty, so he asked me how much I had. Well, I remembered what Auggie told me once about haggling, so I told him I'd give him thirty. He said he'd take no less than fifty, and I said forty, and then he said forty-five…"

I held up a hand, chuckling. "Okay, Mr. Businessman, I get it."

He smirked. "_Anyways,_ he sold it to me for forty-four fifty. He asked why I was so interested in it, and I said I really like to read and I like fairytales. And he said, 'well how about that. I think you'll especially like these stories.' And then he said, 'don't forget that all fairytales come from their own brand of truth.' And then I said, 'thank you,' and I left. Oh…" he patted around the cushion, looking for something. "He even gave me this cool leather bookmark for free," he found the bookmark, that looked like it had once been a piece of a saddle, and held it up.

"Well, that's very nice, Henry, but I do wish you had asked me first."

"I'm sorry," he said. "But look! These stories are so cool! They're not at all like the movies!"

I sat down beside him to look at the book, and my jaw dropped. It was Auggie's book! The one he'd written years ago! How in the world did it end up in Storybrooke?

"Look Nana," Henry was saying, pointing to a page. "This is Snow White. And this is Regina, her evil stepmother. Look, doesn't that Regina look just like Paige's mom?"

I nodded, laughing a little breathlessly. "Yeah, it does," I wondered if I should tell Henry that his uncle had written it, but something stopped me, and I decided to talk to August about it first.

"Can I keep it?" Henry asked sweetly, and I realized that he was trying to show me the book in fear that I might take it away.

"Of course," I told him. "You know I'd never forbid you to read."

Just then, Emma walked in the door, and Henry jumped up to meet her. "Mom! Look at this book I got today!"


	25. Middle Names

**I know I've been taking a while to update! I was dissatisfied with chapter 25...and I just haven't been able to get it _right_ for me. I'm just being obsessive though, so don't mind me. **

**To reward you for your patience, and hope that you'll continue to be so, here is a mini-chapter! Nothing but FLUFF! Fluffity 500 word fluff. This takes place right in the middle of the all the Storybrooke shenanigans.**

**Enjoy, and if all goes according to plan, the next chapter should be up before the premiere on Sunday. Send me some love to encourage the writing process!**

* * *

I was reclining on the couch, grading papers when my kids paraded through the door, talking and laughing loudly so that I couldn't hold back a smile.

"But Auggie," Emma said. "What was up with your signature on the tab back at Granny's?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, setting the groceries I'd asked him to get down on the counter.

"I dunno, August "W." Swan? You don't even _have_ a middle name!"

He turned around in a circle, facing her with squinted eyes and then facing the kitchen again. "What better reason to invent one?"

"Why on Earth did you feel the need to invent a middle name?"

"Why don't you?"

She narrowed her eyes. "What does the "W" even stand for?"

"Wayne" he said with a shrug, falling to sit beside me on the couch and then turned on the TV as if that was the end of it. Surely he knew Emma better than _that_.

True to self, Emma was still giving him her "I sense such bull" look from behind him. "It's Wayne as in BRUCE Wayne, isn't it?"

"Huh?"

"ISN'T IT?!"

"I have no idea of what you speak."

"You are many things, my dear brother. Batman is not one of them."

"Wanna say that to my face, Blondie?"

"Children!" I yelled to be heard over their playful bickering. "August Wayne and Emma Ruth if you two don't settle down…"

"Emma Ruth?" they both asked at once.

I shrugged, still not looking up from my grading. "If Auggie has a middle name now, so should Emma."

Now I could feel Emma's narrowed eyes aimed at the back of my head. "But Ruth?"

I twisted a little to look at her. "That was your grandmother's name."

All the joking had been sucked from the air and Emma fidgeted. "I thought it was Eva."

"Your father's mother was Ruth," I told her.

Before Emma could question it further, Henry was hopping down the stairs. "What's going on down here? I'm trying to finish my homework here!"

"We're all giving each other middle names," August explained over his shoulder. "Don't mind us."

"What about you?" Emma asked, and I felt that it was directed at me though I had my eyes on my work.

"My name is Mary Margaret," I said. "Aren't those enough names?"

"No," she said with teasing stubbornness.

Finally I set away the papers and turned around fully with a wide smile. "Frosty."

Emma, August, and Henry all burst into hysterical laughter, Emma bending at the waist, August rolling onto his side, and Henry holding on to the banister for support.

"Mary Margaret Frosty Swan?" Henry asked between gasps of air.

Emma shook her head at me in that way she often did as a teenager when she just couldn't figure out how I got to be so weird. "Where the hell did Frosty come from?"

I giggled and turned away again, mumbling to August on the way. "Same place Mary and Margaret both did."


	26. Proof

**Phew! I got it done! I'm not even sure why this one was such an issue for me. I'm super excited for events coming up that we all saw on the show, but that I've put my own spin on! **

**SUNDAY! It's finally almost HERE! I don't think I've ever been more excited for the season premiere of a show. It's gonna be a long weekend waiting for 8pm Sunday! Me and some of my friends are having a viewing party. :)**

**Well, hopefully this might help tide you over until then. Enjoy! And thanks a million for the continued support!**

* * *

I came downstairs from kissing Henry goodnight to find Emma rummaging around in the kitchen. Without a word I began the process of making hot cocoa, sending Emma a grin that was matched as she leaned against the counter, ending her search in favor of the drink she insisted that only I could make correctly.

"So," she began, suddenly finding the linoleum to be rather fascinating. "I decided to take the job."

"You did?" I asked excitedly while pouring cocoa and sugar into a pan without need of measuring or thought, as many times as I've done it. "That's great! Did you put in your notice back in Augusta?"

Emma smirked a little, retrieving the milk and vanilla for me before leaning against the fridge. "Yeah, I did. Two weeks ago."

I shook my head with a chuckle. "You were going to take it the moment he offered the job, weren't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "I guess. It's not exactly my dream job. Do you know they have exactly _one _patrol car here? But it sure will beat driving to Augusta every day."

I produced a can of whipped cream with a flourish, (an added indulgent only to be used on special occasions,) and topped off our favorite mugs with that along with a generous serving of the mandatory cinnamon. (A tiny bit of extra cinnamon in Emma's cup, because as a little girl she liked to have the most cinnamon, and some things just never changed.) "Admit it; this place is growing on you."

"I don't _not _like it here," she huffed. "Bottom line is Henry loves it, even if his best friend's mom is as crazy as a sack of cats. And I don't think I've ever seen you so…comfortable before. You're usually kind of shy and standoffish with anyone outside the family. Here, you're coming out of your shell. It's nice to see."

I mentally rolled my eyes. If she only knew.

"Even _August_ is sticking around! He really likes working for that Marco guy. I guess what I'm trying to say is, even though it isn't _my _first pick, Storybrooke's got something to it. The bad part is, Graham's an okay guy, but he's so far into Regina's pocket I'm surprised he can breathe, you know?"

"Yeah," I said. "But maybe it's not his fault. He seems genuine."

Emma shrugged, taking a long sip of her cocoa and hiding her face behind a curtain of hair.

"…And…handsome?"

"Oh don't even, Mom," Emma snapped exasperatedly. "It's not like that."

I giggled, hiding it behind my mug. I couldn't blame her for being attracted to him. Before my one and only meeting with the Huntsman took a turn for the deadly, that walk through the woods found me, barely more than a teenager, glancing up at him blushingly every two seconds. He had been the single handsomest man I'd ever seen…prior to Charming, of course. And in truth, I owed the man my life, as did Charming. And together, we owed him _Emma's_ life. If anyone was worthy of my daughter, it would be him.

"Mama?" Emma said, and I frowned wondering why her voice had gone so soft all of a sudden.

"What, baby?"

"No, you just got this weird look on your face, are you okay?"

Only then did I realize I was grimacing. "Oh, sorry. I've just been getting this obnoxious headache off and on. I'm fine."

"Maybe you should make a doctor's appointment."

I waved her off. "If I went to the doctor for every headache, I'd have to live there. What were we talking about again?"

Emma chuckled. "Me becoming the deputy and you thinking Graham is handsome."

I grinned and winked at her. "Don't you think so?"

Emma mock-glared at me and drained her cocoa. "Night, Mom."

* * *

I went to Marco's shop to confront August about the book.

"It's _here_?" he asked, looking confused but not particularly shocked.

"Henry bought it from Mr. Gold's shop," I told him. "How did it end up here?"

He shrugged, turning his attention back to a clock he was repairing. "I sold it to a collector, I guess he sold it to Gold."

I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms. "Oh, someone just waltzed into a town no one but us can get into? What are you not telling me, August?"

"Nothing!" he insisted, but it was too quickly.

"August," Marco called from the back of the shop. "Could you help me carry this dresser?"

"I have to help Marco, Mom. We'll talk later."

I scowled at August's fleeing back, _knowing_ something was going on and not liking not knowing. I returned Marco's wave and smile though, but decided to make my own hasty retreat because I was starting to be a little afraid that the older man (expect he wasn't all the much older than me, now) was developing a crush.

* * *

Ever since buying the book, Henry had grown quiet and distant. He almost never looked up from it, and carried it wherever he went. Emma was growing worried, but I told her that he was just absorbed into the story.

He and Paige still spent every possible moment together, and I watched with a smile as they sat together during recess, their heads almost touching as they bowed over the book.

"Nana?" Henry trotted up to me after class. "Are you going home now?"

"Math tutoring day," I reminded him. "I'll be home after a while."

Paige was still sitting at her desk, Henry's book atop it, and was looking from it to me and back again.

"Do you like Henry's book?" I asked her.

She grinned up at me. "Yes, Ms. Swan. It's really cool."

"Come on, Paige, let's go," Henry said, slinging on his backpack.

I frowned. "Paige, isn't your mother picking you up?"

"No ma'am," she said. "She has a meeting. I'm gonna go hang out with Henry."

The teacher side of me was uncomfortable with the children essentially sneaking around behind Paige's mother's back, but the other side of me felt no obligation to tell Regina a thing, so I nodded at the kids and they scampered off.

It was no more than forty-five minutes later that I felt the earth shudder and lurch. The three children I was tutoring cried out in fear, and I struggled to keep them calm until their parents came to collect them. By that time I got a call from Emma that made my heart stop.

One of the old mines beneath the town caved-in, and Henry and Paige were trapped.

* * *

I ran outside, only to curse myself for walking to school that morning instead of driving.

"Mary Margaret!"

"David!" I called back, relief nearly flooring me at the sight of him standing beside his pickup.

"Everything okay?" he asked. "What _was_ that?"

"I need a ride!" I blurted, getting into the passenger seat without waiting for confirmation. "I'll explain on the way."

A sizable crowd had already gathered at the mines by the time David and I got there.

"Mom," August huffed, running toward me.

"Are Henry and Paige alright?" I asked frantically.

"They're not sure. Emma saw them playing down there, but when she went to get them the whole thing went down."

I stifled a sob with my hands. "Oh, God…"

"Don't worry," David's warm hand rested on my shoulder. "Emma and Graham will get them out."

I looked up at him, wanted then more than ever to believe his words.

And in his eyes was just a flicker of that infallible confidence I so missed in him. "I have faith," he said.

Nodding in agreement, I followed August to the entrance to the mine where Emma was locked in a screaming match with a hysterical Regina.

"Both of you, stop it!" I yelled, getting between them. Both women silenced as immediately as my students, though Regina's eyes were shooting daggers my way. "Fighting won't help the children!"

"She's right," Emma said, nodding. "Fighting won't help," she took a step closer to Regina. "Are you going to work _with _me to get our kids out, or no?"

Regina looked ready to hit her, but grudgingly nodded.

* * *

When explosives turned out to be a disastrous idea, Emma was all but pulling out her hair trying to think of something else.

"If we knew where they were," Marco piped up from near the fire truck. "We could drill down to them."

"Yeah," August agreed. "Maybe rig something to bring them back up!"

"But drill _where_?" Graham asked.

For a moment no one said anything, all trying to think, then Emma looked up suddenly, locking eyes on a frantic Dalmatian barking in the cab of the fire engine. "Hey, Hopper," Emma said, turning toward Paige's therapist, Archie. "How smart is your dog?"

Archie grinned from ear to ear. "Smart! And he _loves_ Paige!"

Emma released Pongo from the truck and set him loose to sniff the ground. Within seconds he was digging at something, and Emma and Graham cleared away dirt and leaves to reveal a large metal grate.

"What is that?" I asked.

Graham smiled. "An air shaft."

I had to watch, heart-in-throat as Emma was lowered down the air-shaft by a rope, being the only one both slim enough and strong enough to fit in the narrow, unstable shaft and lift both children out.

It felt like forever, waiting to see my babies come back, and I drew what comfort I could from David's arm around my shoulder.

The sound of collapse caused both me and Regina to scream, and David and August rushed to the opening to try and reach down, yelling for Emma.

"Take my hand, Henry!" David yelled and I sobbed in relief to see my little guy hoisted out of the hole and held securely in his grandfather's arms. Paige was out next, rushed by August straight to Regina, and Graham pulled up Emma, who was dirty and trembling, but okay.

I got to her just as David was setting Henry down to be enveloped in his mother's arms, and I wrapped them both in mine.

"What were you _doing_ down there?!" Emma demanded, gripping his shoulders. She was bordering on hysteria now that the fear and adrenaline were wearing off. "Are you crazy? What were you thinking?!"

"I'm sorry!" Henry exclaimed, looking over his shoulder at Paige, who was receiving a similar dressing down from Regina. "I'm sorry, Mom. We thought maybe we could find something that would prove it."

"Prove what?" Emma asked, but immediately shook her head and hugged Henry again. "Never mind, let's just get you looked at. Don't you _ever _scare me like that again, Henry Swan."

Henry hugged his mother back. "I'm sorry."

* * *

Both Henry and Paige were checked over by the EMTs, but were unharmed, just tired. So both children were sent straight home.

I missed the conversation between Henry and Emma on the car ride home, because in my haste to leave the school I'd forgotten my bag and cell phone.

"I'll drive you back," David offered.

"Oh, thanks, but I can find Auggie," I looked around the thinning crowd, trying to locate my son. Not that I minded being around Charming for a little while longer, it was just so difficult to treat him like a young man I barely knew, and not like the husband I adored.

"I think he took Marco home," David said. "Come on, I don't mind."

"What a day," I sighed, getting into his antique Ford, nodding my thanks as he got the door for me. "Thank you, David, for the ride, and for sticking around."

"Of course," he said. "I'm just glad the kids are okay," he shuddered. "I can't imagine what it was like for you to watch Emma go after them. I barely know them and it nearly gave _me _a heart attack!"

The thought both warmed and saddened me. I liked to think that David felt a natural connection to both Emma and Henry, but his words about not knowing them were unfortunately very true.

David took me back to the school but then insisted on driving me home as well. I thanked him profusely, but hated watching him leave.

"It's not forever," I mumbled to myself in the stairwell leading to the apartment. "It's not forever."

I got into the apartment to find Emma pacing the floor, repeatedly running her hand through her tangled hair. "I think we should take him to the hospital," she said without preamble the instant I walked in the door.

I glanced around the room, looking for but not finding my grandson. "Why? The EMT said he was fine."

She flapped her arms in a helpless gesture. "He might have hit his head or something! I'm worried, Mom, he's talking weird!"

Growing worried, I pushed her to sit on the sofa, not that I could stop her twitching legs. "Emma, what do you mean by talking weird?"

"Remember what he was saying at the mine about finding _proof_? Mom, he says that he thinks this town is _cursed_. That everything in that book of his is _true. _I thought he was joking at first but he genuinely believes it! I mean, I know we joked about vampires, but he's _seriously_ convinced everyone here is a cartoon character! That's not…healthy, is it?"

I felt my mouth hanging agape, but couldn't think of a thing to say. _Henry believed in the curse?_ Not only believed it, but figured it out on his own! But the bad part was that Emma was reacting to the mere idea just as I knew she would, with vehement disbelief. But who could blame her? I knew the stories in the book were true, but even I thought it sounded like fantasy.

"Emma…" I tried uncertainly. Agreeing with Henry at that point would have only upset her further. "I'm sure you're overreacting."

"No, Mom, I've never seen him like this! He and Paige are in on it together. Lord only knows what Regina's gonna think now."

Emma jumped off the couch and went into the kitchen while I followed on her heels. "Let me go talk to him."

She sighed, digging out a bottle of whiskey from the back of a high cabinet to pour herself a glass. I frowned; it must have really been disturbing her if it made her want to drink.

* * *

"Henry?" I called, knocking gently on the wall, since his bedroom, like all of ours, had only a curtain for a door. It didn't make for much privacy, but it would have to do until Henry hit puberty. "Can I come in?"

"Yes ma'am," he said, but with no enthusiasm.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, stepping inside but not approaching him where he reclined against the pillows stacked on his bed, his book encompassing his lap. His body language and tone of voice did not vocalize "welcome." Whatever he had been going on about worried Emma, but it made me wonder. Just what _did _Henry find in that book of his?

"I didn't hit my head!" he snapped with uncharacteristic anger, though I could tell it wasn't directed at me, or anyone really. "Mom thinks I hit my head, but I didn't."

"I know," I told him. "They would have told us if you had. But you've been through an ordeal, it's okay if you're tired and scared.

He looked at me fully at last, and there was something in his eyes that I wasn't used to seeing in my chipper little man. A fierce determination. "I'm okay. Really. But I didn't do it right!"

I folded my arms and leaned against the wall facing the foot of his bed. "Didn't do what right?"

"I didn't tell Mom right!" he slammed his book shut in obvious frustration. "I had rehearsed what I was gonna say a million times, but it all came out wrong and now she thinks I'm crazy!"

Shaking my head and no longer waiting for an invitation, I sat down on the foot of his bed and patted his knee. "Henry Swan, no one thinks you're crazy, least of all your mom. She's only worried. You scared us all a lot today."

"I know," he said contritely. "And I'm sorry. I know we shouldn't have gone down there. I just thought that maybe I could find _proof_."

"Proof of _what_, Henry?"

"You won't believe me."

I smirked at him. "Try me."

"This town is _cursed!_" he explained, passion flaring in his eyes. "This book?" he held up the tome in question. "These aren't just stories. They're true. Everything in it _actually _happened. When the Evil Queen failed to defeat Snow White with the apple, she decided to cast a curse instead, and it sent everyone from the Enchanted Forest _here_."

"How do you know that?" I whispered, barely able to believe that he'd figured this much out.

"It says so!" he exclaimed, growing excited when I did not immediately refute him. "The Evil Queen crashed Snow White's wedding and told her of the curse, and then Rumplestiltskin told Snow White and Prince Charming that the _only_ way to break the curse was to save their daughter from it, so that _she _could come back and save everyone! I _know_ it sounds crazy, but if you read this book you'll see how much sense it makes! Paige's mom is the Evil Queen. She wasn't too happy about realizing that, but even she believes it," Henry opened his book again and began flipping through the pages. "Me and Paige have it all figured out. Look, here's Ruby and Granny! Only Ruby is really Red Riding Hood and Granny is…well…Granny. None of them remember, though. They don't remember who they are."

"And…" I began, heart bursting with pride. "Who is the one who will break the curse?"

He sighed. "Look," he said sadly and opened the book to the last page. "See? That's Snow White. The Savior is still in her belly. And Prince Charming is helping them into that wardrobe because only one could go in it to be saved. The wardrobe sent Snow White and her baby _here_, but ahead of the curse so that they weren't trapped in this town," he looked up at me, clearly preparing himself to deliver a blow. "That baby is my mom. _She's_ the one who's going to bring back the happy endings."

"And that makes me…"

"Snow White. You're Snow White."

I closed my eyes and smiled, feeling the name wash over me. "I haven't been called that in a very long time, Henry."

For a moment it seemed Henry didn't quite catch my meaning, but the his face lit up and he gasped. "Wait…you…you remember?"

I opened my eyes again, still smiling. "I was never cursed, Henry. I never forgot."

"Then…then it's true? The curse…it's all real?"

"As real as I am," I said, chuckling. "And you, sir, are one smart kid."

His smile could have brought light to any darkness. "You're really Snow White!"

I shrugged, a little self-consciously. "I am. I was…once," I glanced down at the illustration of myself. "A little older than I was."

"You're still the Fairest of Them All, Nana."

I chuckled again and pulled him in for a hug. "Have I ever told you you're my favorite?"

"So what now?" he asked, pulling away. "How does Mom break the curse?"

"I'm afraid I know about as much about that as you do, sweetheart. We were never told _how _Emma would break the curse, just that she _would_. I always sort of thought the curse would automatically break on her twenty-eighth birthday, but clearly that didn't happen."

"She has to believe," he said, and I envied how certain he sounded. "In any story, the hero can't win if she doesn't believe she can. Mom has to _believe _the curse before she can believe she can break it!"

I sighed and fell back to lie across his bed. "I wish it were that simple. You know your mother, she doesn't operate on faith like the rest of us," I turned my head toward him. "You thought you could find something magical in that mine, didn't you? Something that would be undisputable?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Things are changing, Nana. I see it, Paige sees it. Mom is changing Storybrooke. The mine collapses were because of that. I _know_ Regina is hiding something down there."

I leaned up on my elbow. "Henry, listen to me. Trying to find proof isn't a bad idea, but putting yourself in danger _was_. What's worse is you put _Paige_ in danger too! You have to promise you'll never do anything like that again! It isn't worth it, nothing is."

"I promise," he said sincerely.

"I've tried for years to figure out how to make your Mom believe. I procrastinated because I wanted to protect her, but now I've only made it harder," I smiled at him. "And here you've gone and figured it out all on your own. I should have recruited you years ago!"

He grinned proudly. "Paige and me have already come up with a code name, you know."

"A what?"

"A name for our mission to break the curse, so the Queen doesn't get wind of what we're up to."

"I like it. Very sneaky. What's it called? Can I be in it?"

"Are you kidding? You're our new leader! It's called Operation Cobra!"


	27. 7:15am

**Hey guys, so we survived the premiere! (still flailing over it too)**

**These next few chapters have been a real pain because even though most of this story is written, this specific time in the show wasn't. It was not a happy time in the show. I think y'all know what I mean... *sob***

**I'm having SO MUCH TROUBLE writing The Heart is a Lonely Hunter from Snow's POV. I've been trying to write it for a long time and it just never comes out the way I want it to! So bear with me. Moral support is welcome. :)**

**I hope this chapter isn't too all over the place for you. I moved certain events that happened on the show and put them out of order...because I can. And I included a conversation that I just added in and I'm quite pleased with. Enjoy!**

* * *

I was late! For a very important…oh, well, you get the idea.

I darted clumsily about the apartment, trying to throw on clothes and gather my things for school at the same time. I kept forgetting things, having to pop back into my room to get them. The last was my medication for my bad knees, and one for blood pressure, both of which I swallowed with a resentment I'd never before felt for the pills.

"Mom? What are you doing?" Emma asked from where she leaned against the kitchen counter as I ran about, smoothing down my hair with a toothbrush hanging out of my mouth.

"I'm late!" I mumbled around a mouthful of toothpaste.

"What are you talking about? You have plenty of time."

I groaned. Where did she get her inquisitive nature? "I'm helping some students with their science fair projects!"

Emma chuckled at me and adjusted my hat. "I'm sure they'll be okay if you're a little late."

I paused at the door just long enough to face her. "We're making volcanoes," I told her as if that explained everything.

It wasn't a lie, the class really _was _making volcanoes. But I should have known Emma would be suspicious, considering Henry's half-finished volcano was sitting on our table.

* * *

No one knew about my daily 7:15am treks to Granny's, or at least no one knew _why _I made a point to be there every day.

It meant nothing, at least from David's end. He saw me as a confidant, a non-judgmental ear to hear about his struggles with his memory. It was innocent, so I didn't worry about what people thought.

But maybe I worried a little about what my daughter thought.

I wasn't thinking about that when I got to the diner though. I slowed down at the door, so not to appear as if I was rushing. I caught David's eye from across the diner and he waved me over with that smile of his that never failed to make my heard surge.

"Morning," he said cheerfully. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming today."

I shrugged, forcing myself not to apologize, because it wasn't like this was a _date _or anything. "I guess I overslept today. How are you? How are things?"

"Okay," he said unconvincingly. "We're taking it a day at a time."

By "we" he meant he and Katherine, a fact that made my insides clench with anger, but I was getting pretty good at ignoring it.

This was a good day, talking with David about mundane things. Every now and then I could almost forget that there were thirty years and a curse between us, and it was just like it used to be, sitting at a campfire and talking about everything and nothing at all.

Not-so-good days were the ones Kathryn was with him. What made it even _worse_ was that she was just as friendly toward me as he was. They would both sit with me, chatting amiably, and she would be so _damned likable_.

What did she have to worry about? I was old enough to be their mother. She appeared to think that David was sweet for spending time with me.

I couldn't hate her, even if I had it in me to really hate anyone. I hated seeing her with him, but I knew deep down that she was as much a victim here as David was. Princess Abigail, that nag with a bad attitude, had never wanted to marry Charming. He told me the whole story, how he helped her rescue her beloved, Fredrick.

Fredrick, who just happened to be the janitor at the Elementary school.

So I knew that it wasn't her fault. But it didn't make it any less painful, nor did it stop a spark fierce possessiveness in me every time she touched him.

But when it was just me and David, I could forget about the world for a second and just enjoy his voice and his smiles, and I let it hold me over until I could have his arms and kisses as well.

"I have to get going," David said, paying for my breakfast despite my frequent insisting that he didn't have to. "Have a good day, Mary Margaret."

"You too," I said, forcing myself not to watch him as he walked out.

I nearly jumped out of my chair when Emma suddenly appeared in David's place.

"So this is making volcanos?" she asked, eyes dancing with mirth.

I rolled my eyes. "So I wanted to go to the diner for some alone time, sue me."

She smirked. "Ya didn't look so alone a second ago."

I shrugged and hid behind my coffee. "What? David just stopped by to chat."

"Mom," suddenly her teasing voice was gone. "Mom, I see what's happening here, and I just gotta say, what are you _thinking_?"

"What do you mean?" way too innocent sounding there.

"He is _half your age!" _she hissed. "Not to mention _married!_"

"Nothing is going on between us!" I snapped. "We're friends, that's all!"

It was her turn to roll her eyes. "Right. So making a point to be here every morning just so you can see him, all the while wearing revealing tops and fixing your makeup _way _more than usual…those things you do for friends?"

"Revealing?" I asked in honest surprise, glancing down at my blouse.

Emma's smirk returned. "For as long as I can remember, you've been a top-button kind of lady."

I groaned, face burning in embarrassment. "David is my friend, Emma, I like talking to him. That's it."

"You sure it has nothing to do with this sharing my father's first name, and Henry's belief that he's your Prince Charming?"

My eyebrows went up. "I'm sure," I said sternly.

"Look, Mama, I would be thrilled to pieces if you found someone. I've always wished you would..."

"I _know_, Emma," I interrupted him. "But you've got it wrong, I promise," and though my conscience nagged me, I convinced myself that I wasn't lying. I truly wasn't trying to start anything with David, not then, not while he was under a curse. But I suppose when you love a person that much, it was difficult to hide.

"I want you to be happy," she said.

"I know, baby girl, I know. But I _am _happy. I'm not about to start a torrid affair with anyone."

She smirked. "Good, because you know, he's younger than Auggie."

I rolled my eyes. _Don't remind me_, I thought. "Now, if you're done coming up with juicy rumors, I have to go to work."

* * *

On the way home from school, I passed by the playground, and from the corner of my eye I spotted Paige sitting in the castle. I looked around, but didn't see Henry, so I walked up to her.

"Hey," I called. "Waiting for Henry or waiting for Mom?"

"Neither," she shrugged. "Henry just went home. Mom is at a meeting."

I frowned. What sort of meetings was she constantly at anyway? Obviously I didn't ask the girl this.

"Ms. Swan? Is it true?"

"Is what true, sweetie?"

"You know…" she said meaningfully. "Operation Cobra."

I chuckled. "Ah," I climbed up into the castle to sit beside her, not as nimbly as I once would have though. "What do you think, Paige?"

The girl bit her lower lip. "In some ways I _want _to believe it, but in others I don't. If it's true, then everything makes sense, and I'm not such a…weirdo. But if it's true…then that means my mom is someone who did awful things."

"Well, no matter what, you're no weirdo. And…no matter what…" I chose my words carefully. "No matter what, you're mother isn't perfect."

She looked up at me. "It _is_ real, isn't it? Tell me the truth."

I nodded. "It's real, Paige."

"You're _really _Snow White?"

I smiled. "Really, really. Though pay no attention to that movie, they got everything wrong."

Paige giggled. "That's what Henry said. Ms. Swan?"

"Yes?"

"Do you…do you know who I am? Henry doesn't. Do you know who my real parents are?"

"I'm sorry, Paige, but I don't," I sighed. "The curse touched many people, I don't know everyone here. I wish I did."

"Do you think that when the curse breaks, they'll come looking for me?"

"Oh, I don't doubt that," I told her, praying that I wasn't lying.

"What will happen to my mom?"

"I wish I could answer that, sweetie. Do you love your mom?"

She nodded.

"Is she good to you? Treats you well?"

Again, she nodded. "But I'm not always sure if she loves me or not."

"I know exactly how you feel," I said wryly.

"Wait…" she paused. "I know the story, but I didn't put it together. My mom is your stepmother!"

I scrunched up my face at how odd this was all becoming. "Yes, she was. So I know how you feel, Paige. I know what it's like to want to love someone, someone who is very difficult to love. And to want love in return _so badly_."

"You know what it's like to be Regina's daughter. And look at what's happened to _you_."

My heart clenched. I'm definitely not a good example of Regina's parenting skills. "It's different with me, sweetie, much different. I hurt Regina, I didn't mean to but I did. Also, Regina _wanted _you, she cares about you, that much I _can_ tell. She never wanted me. I like to think there was a short time that she did care about me, but I'll probably never know. Also, she was very young when she became my mother. I didn't think about it then, but I should have. Everything went wrong, when all I wanted was a family."

Paige fidgeted with her striped scarf, swinging her legs where they hanged over the edge of the castle. "Did you ever like having her as a mom?"

I smiled, recalling memories I hadn't thought about in decades. "Yeah, I did. Especially at first. Do you know what? Regina always did my hair. I complained that my maids were too rough when they brushed it, so I begged Regina to do it, when really I just wanted to be close to her. She sort of grumbled about it at first, but it became a sort of ritual for us, one that lasted quite some time.

"I remember one night when I was a little older, and I was sitting at my dresser, brushing my own hair, struggling with the tangles. Regina stomped in, complaining to me about something or other. But then she just stood there for a few seconds, I could see her in the reflection. Then, without a word, without me even asking, she took my brush from me and started doing it herself. She was annoyed with me, but she wasn't rough with my hair. She put it in the prettiest braid, then left, all without a word."

I trailed off, lost in memory. "I was fourteen…and that's the last time she fixed my hair."

Paige was watching me intently throughout my story, and when I came back to Earth I realized that she was toying with one of her own pigtails. "Mom braids my hair every morning," she said. "I always thought it was just because she can't stand to see my hair in a mess."

We sat there for a few minutes more, and I marveled at our situation. Almost fifty years between us, yet we shared a difficult relationship with a very difficult woman.

"Hey," I said softly, reaching out to stroke her hair. "No matter what happens, remember that you'll never be wrong for loving her. Remember that."

"I will."

* * *

My thoughts were still on Regina when I ran right into her on the street.

"Watch where you're going!" she snapped.

I stiffened, all fond memories of her flown out the window with the tone of her voice. I was determined not to let her rattle me though. "I'm sorry," I said evenly.

"Well you should be! Be more careful!"

I rolled my eyes as she shoved past me. She just loved being able to verbally abuse me, thinking she had the upper hand. I groaned inwardly though when she walked into the grocery store, the same one I needed to go in. I considered forgetting it, but I needed things for dinner, so I sucked it up and followed her inside.

I ignored her, and my desire to slap her with one of the frozen fish I was perusing. I wasn't in the mood for a fight anyway, not with my conversation with Paige fresh in my mind.

I picked up a few of Apollo chocolate bars. Henry had made a good grade on his test and deserved a reward. The second was for Emma, since she was working late most nights and deserved a treat. The third was for me. I just like chocolate.

I was placing them into my basket, not looking where I was going, when I ran into a second person for the night.

This time I collided hard, and both our basket of items spilled all over the floor.

"Oh, Mary Margaret, I'm so sorry!" Katherine exclaimed, scrambling to retrieve her things.

"It was my fault!" I said, flushing in embarrassment.

"Seems to be happening quite a bit, today," I heard Regina mutter from an isle over.

"Is this yours?" Katherine asked sweetly, handing me an Apollo bar.

I smiled and took the candy back, then my hand landed on something that was definitely not mine. "This must be yours…" I said, staring at it in disbelief.

Katherine blushed and took the pregnancy test, tucking into her basket under some strawberries. "Yes. Finger's crossed!"

I forced myself to smile, and if my eyes betrayed the sickening dread I felt, she didn't notice.

"I hope you'll be discreet," Regina sidled up to me, speaking quietly near my ear. "Their lives are their business, not yours."

"You…" I hissed. "Know good and well this isn't their real life!"

She smirked victoriously. "It is now. He's moved on, dear. Even if he did wake up…which…" she winked. "He won't. He'll have a responsibility to fulfill, and we both know how…_honorable_ he is. Maybe he would regret it, or…maybe he wouldn't," her eyes looked me up and down. "You're not the fair maiden you once were, after all."

I swallowed, refusing to cry in this witch's presence. "You spiteful little…"

"I didn't do this," she interrupted, and she was having _far _too much fun. "They did. And just think, she'll be home soon, and tonight they might just have cause for…" she leaned in close, her suggestive expression making absolute sure I caught her meaning. "Celebration."

With that, Regina turned on her heel and waltzed out of the store. The harpy didn't even buy anything. Neither did I, for that matter. I left my basket sitting on the floor and darted past Sneezy before he could see the tears in my eyes.

* * *

When David told me about how he didn't think he loved Kathryn, I'd been elated. That along with the fact that they hadn't been together long due to the coma gave me hope. But I hadn't thought…hadn't allowed myself to think…about the possibility of their cursed personas trying to _work _on their marriage…which usually meant…

She could be _pregnant! _Pregnant with HIS child! Curse or no curse, she believed she was pregnant and was happy about it! That could only mean that they were _trying_!

If she was pregnant, then Regina was right. Even when the curse broke, David would be bound to the mother of his child. Our child was grown, _theirs_ would be needing a father, and because of David's chivalry, one the many things I loved most about it, he would be there for it.

I managed to compose myself once I was home to fix supper for me and Henry. I even ate, so not to arouse his suspicions. I kept my mind blessedly blank until he was in bed I was curled up on mine, trying not to cry too loudly.

I heard Emma come home, heard her kick her boots off with a tired sigh. I listened to her reheat her leftovers I had set aside from dinner, and to the quiet ping of her fork hitting the plate every so often.

I didn't move when I felt more than heard the curtain separating my room move. But despite my efforts, I must not have been able to conceal my sniffles.

"Mom?" she said quietly.

"'Night, Em," I whispered, hoping that way she wouldn't hear the despair in my voice.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," I said, but I wouldn't have fooled anybody.

But Emma knew what it was like not to want to talk. She never pushed, not like I did. And in a way I think she knew what the source of my tears was, even though she didn't know the situation at all. There was no hiding anything from my very, very astute daughter.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Nope," I said. Where would I even begin?

"Do you want to be alone?"

I sighed. After fifty-six years, being strong could sometimes get a little old. "Nope."

So Emma curled up in bed beside me, wrapping her arms around me from behind. I couldn't have loved my girl more then. She didn't know why I was upset, but it didn't matter, because she was there for me.

She was just like her father.


	28. Walls

**Wow, so it took forever, but I finally wrote a version of this chapter that I'm satisfied with! Super awesome special thanks to MickeySam from Tumblr for reading it over for me since I was so unsure about it. You have her to thank for the update today. :D**

**How excited are we all about Ginny and Josh? I only with this was the NEXT chapter, which has some Snowing going on, in honor of it! But alas this is not that chapter. Next time. ;)**

* * *

"Good morning," I sang, shuffling from my bedroom into the kitchen where Emma was thankfully brewing a pot of coffee.

"Mornin', Mom," she muttered sleepily.

I froze in that moment, and stared back at her in confusion. "What did you just call me?"

Emma's puzzled look matched mine and I wondered if I was just hearing things. "I called you…Mom?"

So I wasn't hearing things. I opened my mouth to voice another question but Henry galloped down the stairs, distracting me. "What's for breakfast?"

All at once the confusion lifted, and I shook myself. For some reason I couldn't even tell what was wrong with me just a moment before.

"Cereal, kid," Emma answered Henry without taking her eyes off of me. "We're running late. Mom, are you feeling okay?"

I wasn't really, my head was pounding and I felt a little queasy, but I hated to worry my daughter for nothing, especially after she found me sobbing into my pillow like a broken-hearted teenager a few nights before. "Fine," I told her. "Still half asleep I think."

Emma smiled sympathetically and poured me some coffee.

* * *

Emma seemed to be thriving as Graham's deputy. She seemed comfortable – as comfortable as possible with the mayor breathing down her neck. And I knew a lot of it had to do with how much she liked the sheriff.

The dance they did around each other was at once funny and adorable. But Emma had been burned so many times by men, and she was just so wary. "The only man I need is my little man," she would say often to keep from even thinking about a relationship.

And then she came home late one night, tossing her coat viciously onto the chair by the door.

"Emma?" I murmured from my bed, peeking out at her from the crack in the curtain.

"Hey," she said. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Come here," I waved her over, setting my book down. "What's wrong?"

Emma brushed past the curtains into my room, but didn't sit down, just rocked on the balls of her feet with her hands in her back pockets. "Nothing, just been a long night."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Is it Graham?"

Her eyes flashed with irritation that I'd guessed, and something else, something that made me want to wrap her in blankets and feed her cocoa and take a bat to certain sheriff. "Know how I said he was in Regina's pocket?" she sneered. "He's in a hell of a lot more than that."

With that she stormed out and all but ran up the stairs and I flopped back into my pillows in dismay, feeling a little sick to my stomach at the thought of Graham and Regina together that way. It really wasn't his fault. Any feelings he may have had for Regina must have been fabricated by the curse. What other explanation was there?

* * *

The following morning Emma was in no better spirits when she stomped down the stairs, pulling her hair back into a ponytail so violently I worried a little that she'd pull her hair out. Or, more realistically, that she'd cut it off in a flash of temper.

Before I could think of something comforting to say, her eyes narrowed in on a bouquet of flowers sitting in a vase on the counter.

"Really?" she hissed, snatching the flowers up and tossing them in the trash before I could speak.

"Hey!" I protested. "What are you doing?"

"If Graham thinks he can win me over with flowers…"

I frowned and looked down at the poor, victimized bouquet. "Actually…those were mine."

Emma's eyebrows shot up, so did Henry's who until that moment was absorbed in his book.

"From who?" Emma asked in utter surprise that would have been insulting if it wasn't so understandable. "Not..." she glanced at Henry uncertainly. "David?"

"No," I waved her off, trying not to even _think_ of him. I'd been avoiding the diner for days, ever since my run-in with Kathryn. "From…uh…Marco."

Emma's eyebrows, already up, reached her hairline. "_Marco_? The guy August works for? Are you guys…"

"No!" I exclaimed, face hot. "Nothing like that. I think…" I shrugged in embarrassment. "I think he might have a crush on me, that's all," actually, he'd sent the flowers under the guise of being gentlemanly to his employee's mother, but it had come with a note suggesting a friendly dinner. But he was clearly rather infatuated by me, and even August saw it though he chose to ignore it. I was distressed, unwilling to hurt the poor man's feelings, and not sure how to go about rejecting him nicely. After all, surely he wouldn't still feel that way after he knew who I really was?

"Well…" Emma stammered. "He…uh…Marco seems like a really good man, Mom…" I could tell she didn't truly care for the idea of me and Marco together, but bless her heart if she wasn't determined to support me anyway.

"She can't date Marco!" Henry exclaimed with a wrinkled nose. "Her True Love is _David_. Prince Charming!"

"Henry," Emma snapped with a warning tone. "Don't start. Go upstairs and get changed for school."

Henry looked ready to protest, but zipped his lip when his mother gave him "the look."

"I don't feel that way about Marco," I told Emma quietly once Henry was gone. "He's very nice…but I just…don't…"

Emma half-smiled and nodded.

"Now," I continued, changing the subject. "Why are you so upset?"

"Upset? I'm not upset."

I scoffed. "Uh, the floral abuse tells a different story."

"What story is that?"

I smiled understandingly. "The one that's obvious to everyone, except, apparently _you_. That you have feelings for Graham."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on…"

"Emma," I reached out and rubbed her arm. "I know you're trying to be cautious…"

"I have a son," she interrupted. "I _have _to be cautious."

"And that's _completely _understandable. But honey, do you think that maybe you're using Henry as an excuse to hide behind your wall?"

"What _wall_?"

I sighed. "The one you've built around your heart. I tried to raise you to believe that love is the most wonderful thing on Earth. Why can't you let it in?"

All of a sudden, Emma was scowling at me. "Did you? Because what I remember learning is that there are two men in this world that can be counted on. Fred and Auggie. You say _I _hide behind a wall? What about you, Mom? A sweet, kind, interesting man sends you flowers and you're immediately clamming up and saying everything you can think of to brush it off. And what about Jim? You _loved _Jim, Mom, and don't even bother trying to deny it. You loved him but refused to be with him. I'm twenty-eight years old and beside Jim you've never been with _anyone_. No one in _all _those years. Do you remember when I was twenty-one and kept introducing you to my 'friends'?"

I blinked, completely thrown by the sudden reversal of lecturing. I did remember Emma suddenly making a couple of female friends who were older than her and convincing me to go out with them for drinks. "Yes…"

Emma smiled humorlessly. "They were lesbians…I was trying to see if maybe _that_ was what you wanted."

My jaw dropped. "You…I…Emma, I'm not…"

"I know you're not, Mom," her voice softened but the accusation was still plain. "But if I have a wall, it's because you taught me how to build it."

Henry descended the steps slowly, dressed and ready for school. With the size of our apartment, I was sure he heard everything. His presence effectively halted our conversation though, thankfully.

But I felt defeated. Emma was totally right. While trying to uphold my vows and hang on to True Love, I'd allowed my daughter to see me pull away from every single possibility of romance her whole life.

Stung, but having nothing to argue with, I gathered up the innocent flowers and put them back into the vase. Then set the vase in an out-of-the-way spot because Emma was still angry, and my vases tended to get broken when that happened.

* * *

I went about the rest of my day in a funk. On top of that my headache was back and worse than ever. I decided that I probably needed to make an appointment with…the only doctor I knew of in town, Dr. Whale. I didn't much care for the man, though, and having no clue who he really was didn't help. I would have much preferred to see Doc, but in this land he was a mailman of all things, so I didn't think it would go over too well if I walked up to him and suddenly started talking about my health.

It was making it hard to concentrate though, and I was digging frantically in my purse for some ibuprofen when Graham stumbled into my classroom while the kids were at lunch.

I winced when a sudden shot of pain rang through my skull, but managed a smile for him anyway.

"Graham, hi," I said. "Can I help you?"

"Mary Margaret, can I ask you something?" he said without preamble.

I wondered if this had something to do with Emma. "Of course."

"Uh…I think we know each other."

He wore an expression that looked just as pained and confused as I felt. "Of course we do."

"No, no, not from here. Not from Storybrooke. From another life."

I weakly smiled. "How many lives have you had, Sheriff?"

Graham walked further into the room and I could see that there was definitely something wrong with him. I felt so sick myself though, that it was hard to let it fully register.

"Have I ever tried to hurt you?" he asked me, and he sounded so lost it just sort of made me want to hug him.

"Of course not," I told him earnestly, noting his flushed and sweat-sheened face. "Graham, are you feeling okay? I think there must be a bug going around."

"Do you believe in other lives?"

"You mean like Heaven?"

"No, I mean past lives."

"You've been talking to Henry."

"Henry?"

My headache was starting to ease, so I was able to focus more on how unwell he looked. "Mm. He believes we're all characters in fairytale, we just don't remember…" I reached out my wrist, like I would with one of my students, and felt his forehead. "Graham, you are _burning _up. I think you need to go home and get some rest."

Graham shook himself, as if coming out of a daze, and nodded. "You're right. I will. Thank you Mary Margaret, sorry for bothering you."

* * *

It was late when I got home, having had tutoring and needing to go grocery shopping. Henry jumped up when I wrestled through the door, helping me with the bags.

"Nana!" he exclaimed impatiently. "Where have you been?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I said, meaning to be playful but it came out rather short-tempered. I was exhausted. "Did your grandparents call this afternoon?"

"Nana, Graham was here."

I stopped putting away groceries to turn to him fully. "Is he okay? Is Emma?"

"He was asking about the book," he said excitedly. "He's remembering, Nana! He's the Huntsman who saved you, and now he's remembering!"

"Remembering what?"

He groaned in frustration. "That he's the _Huntsman! _Did he talk to you? You need to tell him you believe."

"He did talk to me…" I said dazedly.

"He did? Then why didn't you tell him?"

I felt woozy, but managed to sit at on a barstool before Henry could notice. "I don't know. Why _didn't _I?"

"Nana?" his voice had grown quieter. "Are you okay?"

Just then the phone rang, and Henry rushed to answer it. "Auggie!" he exclaimed into the receiver. "Hey, I have to tell you something, Graham…huh? Okay, okay, she's right here," he held up the phone, beckoning me over. "He wants to talk to you, says it's important."

I took the phone from him. "Hey."

"Mom," Auggie sounded out of breath. "You gotta get to the hospital. Now."

My heart leapt into my throat. "What's wrong?! Emma?"

"Not Emma," he said and I gasped in relief. "Graham."

I remembered how sick he looked earlier and my stomach dropped. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know. I saw the ambulance pull up to the station. Emma went with him…she was hysterical. I'm on my way there now."

I was hanging up before he even finished his sentence and grabbed Henry's hand to haul him out the door, ignoring his questions and the frozen food melting on the counter.

* * *

I somehow managed to get to the hospital at the same time as August.

"Stay with Henry," I told him, gently pushing my grandson toward him.

"But I want to go with you!" Henry protested.

"Stay, Henry!"

I marched past the ER reception desk, heedless of the objections from the woman sitting there.

I didn't stop until I saw my daughter, sitting on the floor with her head in her hands.

And I did stop then, breathing in relief now that I could see with my own eyes she was unhurt. But something in her position, or perhaps it was just my instincts, told me something was very, very wrong.

"Emma?" I spoke softly so not to startle her. I crouched down beside her, resting my hand on her back. "Emma, honey, talk to me."

When she looked up, it was with the most devastated, anguished expression I'd ever seen on her. "Mama…" her face crumbled, and she all but fell into my embrace.

I hadn't seen my brave Emma Swan cry since Henry was born. And that night I had to hold her in my arms while she sobbed her heart out and I just kept praying that I'd never have to do it again.

He was gone.

It was too surreal to be true. Graham was a healthy, strong, active thirty-four-year-old. Definitely the last person anyone would believe would have a heart attack.

But that's what they told us. That's what Emma believed.

Henry told me that when Graham went to visit him, he'd said that Regina had his heart, and the fact was supported by Henry's book.

How did I not know that?

And why, _why _did I not help him when he came to me, clearly distressed and remembering things that made no sense to him.

I couldn't wallow in my own regret and confusion though, because Emma needed me.

Things were getting worse, people were getting hurt. Regina had to be stopped.


	29. Shoelace

**Hey my beautiful readers! So, kind of a short chapter today, but as it deals with some of the aftermath of Graham's death, I wanted to keep it to itself. But expect another chapter really soon! We're getting closer and closer to what you're all waiting for!**

* * *

I tapped lightly on the wall outside of Emma's room. (I kept meaning to have August install doors…and walls.) "Emma? Honey? Can I come in?"

"Yeah," Emma called out, her voice falsely bright.

I stuck my head in. "You didn't come down for dinner, so I brought you a grilled cheese. Extra cheese!" I waved the plate around, trying to waft the smell over to her.

She smiled where she sat at her small desk, and I took that for an invitation. "I can't very well say no to grilled cheese," she said.

"You see, I know that," I said, smiling. "And guess what?"

Emma's eyes met mine and there was just a _hint_ of her old spark I was hoping to see. "Do I smell bacon?"

I grinned. "Don't tell Henry because he'll demand bacon on his every time, but yes, I put bacon on it."

Emma took a grateful bite and I sighed in relief; she'd hardly eaten at all in days. "Thanks, Mama," she said softly.

* * *

Since Graham's sudden death, I think Emma was in a state of shock. She was quiet and morose, rarely smiled unless it was forced for Henry. She picked at her food and slept much more than usual, but she didn't cry.

Not since I held her on the cold hospital floor and let her sob her heart out into my sweater had she shed a tear.

And normally, I understood that about her. She was naturally not terribly emotional. (Well, she didn't cry is what I mean. She gets VERY emotional sometimes, it just comes in the form of broken kitchen appliances.) But I felt like she _needed _to feel the emotion now, I just didn't know how to help her.

The funeral was an uncomfortable affair for most involved.

At that point word had gotten out that Graham was having an affair with Regina, but only Emma and I knew the truth of his feeling for Emma.

I stood beside her at the cemetery, or rather, between her and Regina. Emma didn't think for a second that Regina was involved, but I did and I was terrified.

The bruise on Emma's temple did not go unnoticed by most of the town, nor did the much larger and uglier bruise on Regina's cheek. It became common knowledge that the two had duked it out, and most applauded Emma for it whatever the reason was.

But what made the funeral worse for me was that the eulogies presented were based on complete fiction. No one mentioned how selfless he was, or the lives he saved. They said he was a "good guy" and a "great cop." Not a courageous man who somehow learned to love despite not being in possession of his own heart.

And no one, save me, Emma, Henry and August, noticed the wolf standing near the woods by the cemetery. With one red eye and one black eye. No one but us seemed to hear his mournful howls for nights after that.

After the service, I lagged behind while August walked Emma and Henry back to the car. I waited until everyone was gone, and only Regina remained, looking at the new tombstone.

"You're pretty good," I said, not even caring how cold my tone was. "Those tears look almost real."

"They _are_ real," Regina hissed through gritted teeth. "And if it weren't for you, none of this would have happened."

"Me?!" I almost laughed. "Me? So I'm the one who crushed his heart?"

Her eyes flashed, and I could tell she was surprised I knew that. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I know exactly what I'm talking about, and I know exactly what you did, now. And you _won't_ get away with it Regina, not this time."

She turned to me fully at last, and the pain in her eyes _did _look real. Somehow that just made me angrier. "And just what do you plan to do to me, _old woman_? You have no proof. All you have are some delusional accusations."

"I don't need proof."

She took a step closer. "If you're so certain about what happened to Graham, why didn't you try to help him?" her tone turned accusing. "You could have _saved_ him."

I stammered for something to say, unnerved by the fact that even though she was basically admitting that she murdered him, she acted like she blamed me for not doing something to stop her.

When I didn't answer, her lips turned up in a smirk. "Oh, what's wrong, Mary Margaret? Your mind not as sharp as it used to be? It's alright darling, memory loss is common at your age."

I gasped, and was suddenly filled with a sinking dread. "You wretched..."

"What? Wretched What?"

I shook my head and turned on my heel, unwilling to let her make me lose my temper.

The injustice of it all was unreal. Graham's life was filled with misery and slavery, and now he was dead and _all_ because my stepmother wanted to punish me. I told Charming a lifetime ago that I wasn't going to allow anyone else to pay for what I'd done, and now the most innocent, most undeserving soul I could name had paid the ultimate price. Damn it all, I didn't even know his real name!

And my baby paid a price too. Just when she was learning to love again, he was cruelly taken away.

* * *

I hovered over Emma while she finished her grilled cheese sandwich. She knew what I was doing, of course, but didn't bother to comment. "That was really good," she said, setting the plate on her desk. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," I sat down on the bottom corner of her bed. "You always used to say that no one could make a grilled cheese as good as mine."

She half-smiled. "I still think that. I'll eat Granny's in a pinch, but nothing compares to Mama's. Not even I can make one half as good."

I watched her a moment, observing her body language and facial expression. "You look like you're feeling better."

Emma took a deep breath, and turned her chair around to face me. "I am feeling better. It's…well the whole thing's not better…but I…"

"I think I know," I said, nodding. "What happened will never be okay, but _you're _going to be okay."

"I know I gotta pick myself up and move on, for Henry's sake if no one else's, but it's hard you know? I can't get it out of my head."

I patted the mattress beside me, urging her to come closer. She surprised me by obeying immediately, and rested her head on my shoulder. To the rest of the world, Emma was seen as rather distant and unemotional, but those closest to her knew how she craved physical affection, especially when upset.

"Why don't you tell me, Emma? I think maybe it'll help if you _tell_ somebody."

"That's what Archie said."

"He's a smart man. Did you talk to Archie?"

She snorted. "Nah, I'm not the therapy type. Henry says he's Jiminy Cricket, you know."

"I believe it," and Emma didn't pick up on the fact that _I really did_. "He does seem awfully fond of that umbrella."

"I kissed him," she said suddenly.

"What?"

She sat up and looked at me. "After my fight with Regina. Graham and me went back to the station and he doctored up my cut. And I was just so…I dunno, proud of him, I guess," tears began welling in her eyes, though she was obviously fighting them back. "For standing up to Regina, and telling her he didn't want to be her puppet anymore. The fact that he did it for himself and not for me made me…for a second I thought…maybe I _could_ let him in. Maybe it was safe. And I just…I kissed him."

My heart tore in two. First her childhood friend, and now this. It just _wasn't fair_.

"And he looked so happy!" she cried. "I've never seen him look like that. He was fine, Mama! He was fine and happy. And then he thanked me…I don't know for what…and he just…collapsed."

"Oh Emma…"

"Did I do that? Do you think I could have caused it?"

My eyes widened. "How can you even think that? Nothing you did could have caused his heart to give out! If anything…" I stifled a sob of my own. "Emma, I don't think Graham had the happiest life," she nodded in sad agreement. "If you did anything, you made his last few moments…happy."

I looked down and realized that Emma was fiddling with something tied around her wrist, the same way I often toyed with my ring when lost in thought. "What's that?"

Emma started, as if not realizing what she was doing. "It's uh…Gold had some of Graham's things and…there wasn't anything I wanted…or needed…but I…I wanted to keep _something_…you know?"

"It's a shoelace," I pointed out needlessly.

"From his boot," she explained. "I just…I don't know…"

I covered the hand that was still fingering the shoelace and squeezed it tight. I truly did believe, as sad a thought as it was, that Emma gave Graham the happiest last moments that he had been allowed to have in a very long time. I would forever wonder what could have been, as I know my daughter did.


	30. Tramp

**Chapter thirty! Phew! I knew a few of you are anxious to get to the curse breaking, but just hang on! The next couple of chapters are ones I've been dying to do since I started this fic. **

**I'm posting this a bit earlier than I intended because David Family Fan is bored in a class she should probably really be paying attention to and not reading fanfiction, but I'm nothing if not a bad influence. Also, the class does indeed sound very boring. This one's for you, DFF!**

* * *

Enough time went by after Graham's death that the position of Sheriff automatically went to Emma. Or rather, it _should _have, except that Regina stepped in, attempting to award the badge to her lapdog, Sidney.

Of all people, Mr. Gold turned out to be the most helpful, and helped Emma begin an election campaign against Regina and her puppet.

It wasn't a unanimous vote. While Emma was well liked in the community, to the citizens' cursed minds she was still a relative outsider. Sidney was a reputable newsman, if not overly respected, and familiar. Also, many citizens feared the wrath of Regina should they vote against him.

It took a pep talk from both me and Henry and the unfortunate dismemberment of my poor unsuspecting toaster to truly get Emma's heart into it, but once it was, it was in full throttle with that Emma passion I so loved to see.

I heard her in the evenings, talking animatedly (and often in angered frustration) to Fred on the phone, gleaning every bit of advice he had to offer. I was glad that the mystical shield that kept Storybrooke away from the world didn't keep us from contacting our loved ones. Fred and Elsa were comfortable and warm down in Florida, but missed us terribly.

A rather dramatic and terrifying event put the election in Emma's favor when she had to drag an injured Regina from her burning office. Turns out it was all a setup designed by Gold. I wasn't terribly surprised, and after the murderous anger receded (how DARE he so carelessly endanger my daughter's life?!) even I had to admit it was rather ingenious, although Emma's wonderful moral compass prevented her from allowing the ploy to let people see her as the hero she didn't believe she was. But oh, how I believed she was.

* * *

Paige was helping me put up campaign posters ("don't tell Mom," she said,) when I ran into David. I scowled at the poster _he _was hanging, one in support for Sidney.

"Hey, Mary Margaret," he said brightly, if maybe a little forcibly. He followed my gaze to the poster and shrugged apologetically. "Kathryn is friends with Regina…"

_Of course she is,_ I thought bitterly. "Oh, of course," I said aloud. Paige dutifully handed me more and more posters while I stapled up an unnecessary number onto the bulletin board.

"I've missed you at breakfast," he said quietly, hesitantly.

I didn't want to look at him, didn't want to see those big blue eyes, didn't want to fall for him again and be reminded of what the curse had done. So I looked down at Paige, but that wasn't much help, because she just smirked (in a disconcertingly Regina-ish way, though it was far cuter on the girl) and jerked her head toward him.

I finally did look up, and forced myself to remain unmoved by those eyes. "Well, things have been busy with the election," I explained as aloofly as I could. "And…well…and everything else."

David flushed, and nodded quickly. "Oh, of course, I mean, I know things have been difficult…I didn't mean to imply…"

I couldn't do it. It just wasn't in me to give this man the cold shoulder. "I know," I said with genuine warmth this time. "I know what you meant. I've missed our breakfasts too," it was my turn to blush then, as that came out sounding much more intimate than I intended. I ignored the delighted expression on the little girl beside me.

"How…how's Kathryn?" I wasn't sure I really wanted to know, yet I _had _to know.

"We're…taking it a day at a time."

That wasn't the answer I was looking for, but how did I go about asking about a pregnancy that I wasn't supposed to know about?

I looked back at Paige, and it was a little pitiful that I was forced to resort to silently begging a ten-year-old for help.

"My mom said that Mrs. Nolan is having a baby!" Paige blurted without preamble. Her voice was all innocence, but her eyes held a calculating, almost devious glee that definitely did _not _come from being around Regina. Just who were this child's parents?

David stammered, turning a fluorescent shade of scarlet. "How…when…your mother _told _you that?"

Paige looked down demurely, her cheeks reddening and it was all I could do to not let my jaw drop in astonishment at this girl's acting. "I…I'm sorry…she didn't say it _to _me…I overheard…"

David's eyes met mine, but I just waited patiently for some kind of answer. Even a confirmation was better than not knowing.

"She's not pregnant," he said, telling me and not Paige. "She…she _thought_ she might be, but it was a false alarm."

"Oh," was all I could come up with at first. "I'm…sorry?"

He shook his head. "No, no, it wasn't the right time. It's a good thing."

"Paige, you really shouldn't eavesdrop," I scolded her, deliberately sounding over-the-top so she knew I wasn't serious. My eyes told her, "_Good girl, keep up the good work."_

"Sorry, Ms. Swan," she said quietly without the least bit of contrition. "Sorry, Mr. Nolan."

"It's alright," David said, smiling at the girl. "If that was floating around, I just assume put it to rest," his eyes met mine again and I tried so hard not to let my relief show.

Paige broke it to me later that I was unsuccessful.

* * *

In the end, Emma won. It was a win that was clinched when she showed the town she wasn't afraid of even Mr. Gold, that she could stand up to his dishonest tactics.

That's my girl.

After the win, Emma was more herself again. She got the position she wanted, all while showing Henry that good could win the _right _way.

Things settled down once more, but Emma was more determined than ever to show the town how crooked Regina was. It was inspiring.

I was tempted to resume my 7:15am breakfasts at Granny's, but I resisted. I had to focus on helping Henry get Emma to believe, not on my husband.

I wasn't expecting to see him on my walk home from school one afternoon.

If I wasn't late or in a hurry, I often took the scenic route home from school. Sometimes with Henry, sometimes with Henry and Paige, but that day I was alone, and relishing the peaceful quiet of the forest. At least I was until I saw David standing beside the bridge.

"David," I called out. I assumed he was just out for a walk too. He'd mentioned that he liked to walk to clear his head.

But the way he turned and looked at me, it was like he had been waiting for me. "That's funny," he said, and before I could ask what was funny, he pointed to the toll bridge sign. "Troll Bridge. I wonder who added the R?"

I chuckled. "I'm gonna bet Mr. Gold."

This made him laugh in earnest. "Oh yeah, I can just picture him, cackling with glee while he defaces public property."

It was a hilarious image with the Mr. Gold of Storybrooke, but I could imagine Rumplestiltskin doing it easily.

"Out for a walk?" I asked casually.

He nodded and fell into step with me. "Yeah, it's such a nice day. I figured you might be going this way, so I just thought I'd hold up and say hi…" he paused and looked over at me, flushing slightly. "Is that okay?"

I grinned. "Fine by me, I don't mind the company. So…um, how are things? How's your memory?"

"Getting a little better," he said with a grimace. "I know Kathryn doesn't think I'm trying hard enough, but I am, I really am…"

I stopped, which pulled him to a stop also. "Go on…"

I could see the confusion, the sadness in his eyes. "I remember marrying Kathryn. I remember most of our life together…but it's like…it's like remembering something from a movie. I remember that I _did _love her, I just don't _feel_ it anymore. The pregnancy scare only reinforced that. I don't want to hurt her, she doesn't deserve that."

I couldn't help myself. Seeing the man I loved so lost was too much for me to bear. I wrapped my arms around his neck, meaning only to give him a comforting hug.

His arms came around me hesitantly, then he sucked in a sudden breath and tightened his hold, pulling me even closer, pressing his face into my hair.

It felt like coming home, being in his arms again after _so long_. I never wanted to be anywhere else. I breathed in deep, trying not to be obvious about it. His smell was like I remembered; woodsy, the scent of horses lingering on him. He wore cologne that wasn't familiar, but it was nice.

"She's going to Boston," he said, his voice muffled by my hair. "She wants to go to law school. She asked me to go with her…but I just can't."

I didn't say anything, what _could_ I say? Kathryn probably couldn't leave, since somehow the curse prevented it, but _he _didn't know that. He was just a man with no past and a crumbling marriage.

David sighed, settling his chin comfortably atop my head. "The only thing that's made a lick of sense since waking up is _you _Mary Margaret," he murmured.

I froze, not daring to pull back and let him see the joy his words gave me. I knew he didn't mean it _that _way. I was just a comfort. And in that moment, it was enough for me.

But he pulled back instead, loosening his hold on me. I dropped my arms instantly, as much as I hated to. But instead of letting go, David took my face in his hands and pulled me toward him again.

He kissed me softly, unsurely, almost fearfully. Though my heart soared and my body thrummed with something that had been dormant for many, many years, it wasn't anything like the passionate, self-assured kisses my Charming gave me.

Because this wasn't my Charming.

Yet I kissed him back with fervor, hoping against hope that maybe it would be enough to break _his _curse, to bring back my Charming and restore his memories. But there was no flash of light, no gust of wind. Not even that little tingle of electricity that happened every time he used to kiss me.

I came to myself at last and pulled away, meeting his eyes, though I wanted nothing more than to grab fist-fulls of his hair and crash my lips back to his. His eyes didn't shine with undeniable love like Charming's always did. Just the same hazy, lost, soulless eyes that looked back at me from every inhabitant of Storybrooke.

"I…uh…I'm sorry…" he stammered. "Oh God, I shouldn't have done that. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry," I said, almost in a whisper. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Please tell me this won't change everything?" he asked hopefully. "I don't know what I'd do without you. You're the only one I can talk to."

I smiled, and gave into a touch of temptation by laying my palm on his stubbly cheek. "You won't have to find out. You're not going to lose me."

His face lit up, and I had to struggle internally against kissing him again.

We walked the rest of the way in companionable silence. When he took my hand to help me over a log, he didn't release it until we were almost in view of town.

I loved him so much, and knowing that he was feeling something for me, even under a curse, was enough to make me want to sing. But it wasn't right. His feelings, his _cursed_ feelings for me were unhealthy. He was simply clinging to the only person who didn't make him feel guilty for not remembering, and possibly just a little of our own unbreakable bond shining through the haze.

A kiss from me would never break his curse. Just like when I had taken that potion to forget Charming, his kiss alone wasn't enough to break the spell because I didn't remember loving him.

This spell was much stronger, and even though David was developing feelings for Mary Margaret, it wasn't True Love. That part was almost sadder than him being married to someone else.

The only thing that could return my husband to me was our daughter.

* * *

I resumed meeting David for breakfast at the diner, only Kathryn was never there anymore. Sometimes we would talk on the street, or he'd offer to carry my groceries. I tried to keep it casual, innocent, but sometimes he would get a little too close, touch my hand or my cheek a little too intimately. Once, Emma witnessed him hug me from across the street, his hand running up and down my back, but didn't say anything about it. As bad an idea as I knew it was, I couldn't quite bring myself to stop him.

That, possibly, was my biggest mistake.

It came in the form of pictures, pictures I didn't see until much later of David hugging me, holding my hand, or kissing my cheek. They were all wildly out of context, especially the one where he was holding me close, since all he had been doing was stopping me from slipping on a patch of ice. But they were incriminating regardless, and enough to bring Kathryn to school to confront me.

I saw her coming all the way from the other end of the long main hall. It was Science Fair Day, and the halls were filled with children showing off their projects to their parents. Henry and Paige were just a few feet away, setting up Henry's volcano.

The moment I saw her face I knew it was bad. She was livid. I held up my hands as she approached, ready to ask her if she wanted to step into my classroom.

Instead the sharp sound of her hand meeting my cheek rang out through the hall, causing every head to turn our way.

I just stood there, completely stunned. A flash of temper made me want to slap her right back, but I restrained myself.

I was humiliated and ashamed, no matter how many times I reminded myself that he was _my _husband.

Word spread like wildfire, and the way people began looking at me, whispering things about "a woman _her _age," and "home-wrecker," made it all the worse. "Cradle-robber" really topped he cake.

Only Ruby stayed friendly with me, saying she didn't blame me, that David didn't love his wife anyway, and there was nothing wrong with being a cougar. Yet somehow, that just embarrassed me further.

Especially after I found out what she meant by "cougar."

Emma, bless her soul. Was sympathetic and understanding, though she didn't make it a secret that she was ashamed of my actions. She believed me though, when I assured her nothing really happened between us. However, I knew it wasn't pleasant for her to think of her mom with a man her own age. Thank _goodness_, by the grace of instinct, that neither of them ever displayed any attraction to _each other_.

Throughout it all I would look at myself in the mirror, and wonder how I'd gone from princess, to bandit, to queen, to mother, grandmother, and school teacher to this. A "tramp," as blatantly spray-painted across my car. David had tried unsuccessfully to scrape the paint off, and August was set to beat up whoever did it. All I could do was picture Regina, cackling evilly while she wielded a can of red paint.

That night, during the town's Miner's Day festival, Kathryn's car was found abandoned beside the road right at the town line. And there was no trace of her.

There was only one suspect in her disappearance, and that night Emma took her father into custody.


	31. Heart in a Box

**My fantabulous readers! We getting closer and closer to the event everyone is waiting for! But first...a couple of awkward conversation...**

***Disclaimer: I realize that the situation with MM's frameup and Emma being on the case is even more unrealistic considering their relationship in my fic, but I did the best I could to make it believable. :)**

* * *

"It's just not possible, Emma, David couldn't have had anything to do with this!" I implored of my daughter when she came home late that night.

She'd released David, having nothing to hold him on, but he was still the number one suspect.

"She hasn't even been _gone_ that long! Chances are she turns up in the morning!"

"And I hope you're right," Emma said earnestly. "But Storybrooke isn't exactly a huge place. There's no reason she would have ditched her car and left all her things if something bad didn't happen. I hate to think the worst, but we have to be realistic."

"I pray she's alright, but if something _did _happen to her, David couldn't be responsible!"

"How do you know?" Emma exclaimed, throwing her arms out. "If you're an alibi, Mom, tell me! I worked late last night, and Henry spent the night at Auggie's. Was David…here?"

"Of course not," I huffed, blushing a little.

Emma was turning a bit pink herself, which was a very uncommon occurrence for her, so I knew this subject matter made her acutely uncomfortable. "Seriously, Mom, no judgments here, if David was here last night, _tell _me. You can tell me he just came over for coffee and I'll pretend to believe you. It doesn't matter _why…_"

"He wasn't _here_," I insisted. "I promise I would tell you if he was," and a part of me was sorely tempted to lie and say he did come over, but at the time I wasn't really afraid because I _knew_ he didn't do anything, and the truth would come out soon enough. "We're not in that sort of relationship, Emma."

She fidgeted uncomfortably. "But you _are _in _some _sort of relationship?"

_Just tell her,_ I thought to myself. _Just come right out with it. She's already upset because she thinks I'm having a fling with a man thirty years younger than me, just tell her the _truth_. _But who was I kidding? She would just be angry and not believe me. It wasn't the time.

I sighed. "We…well, I can't say it's much of a relationship. I care about David, and he…he seems to have feelings for me."

Emma echoed my sigh. "Okay. Okay, I _know _you…have a thing for David…and that's…" she squeezed her eyes shut. "That's…okay," it sounded like she was choking on the words. "But Mama, here's the thing, you barely know him!"

"But I _know _that he wouldn't hurt Kathryn! You have to trust me!"

Emma stared into my eyes for a long moment before letting out a breath. "I do trust you."

* * *

While Emma investigated Kathryn's disappearance, I was stuck twiddling my thumbs and trying to act normal in front of Henry and my class.

"We know Mr. Nolan didn't do anything to Mrs. Nolan," Paige said to me at recess.

"Of course he didn't," Henry said firmly. "It had to have been the Evil Queen!"

A look of hurt flashed across Paige's face before it quickly disappeared. "Right. Maybe I can help, I can get Intel!"

"Yeah!" Henry agreed at the same time I exclaimed, "No!"

"Paige, Henry, I want you both to stay _out _of all this," I told them. "I mean it."

"But we _have _to get Mom to believe," Henry said. "She's never gonna believe if she's so wrapped up in phony police work!"

I nodded in reluctant agreement. "But we need to let her do this the right way. Your mom may be stuck a little too firmly in what she perceives as reality, but she's the smartest person I know. Maybe when she discovers the truth of Mrs. Nolan's disappearance, she'll come to _whole_ truth."

I wasn't sure how much I believed my own words, but it was enough to placate the ten-year-olds for the moment.

* * *

Emma, Henry and I were on our way home from Granny's that night when we came across Ruby standing at the bus station, being harassed by Dr. Whale. (I still had no CLUE who he was!)

She'd had a fallout with Granny, and the twenty-four-year-old who in this realm behaved more like a fifteen-year-old needed a place to stay.

I jumped to offer, much to Emma's dismay. I relished the chance to get to spend time with Red, regardless of her current personality, plus it was a decent distraction from all that was happening. I'd missed her terribly the past twenty-eight years.

"No way that big puppy dog offed his wife," she said as she sat cross-legged on my bed after Emma and Henry had gone to sleep. We'd set her up on the sofa, but she'd migrated to my alcove once she saw that I was still awake reading, clad in red pajamas made up of boy-shorts and a tank top. The vain part of me that I constantly tried to squelch remembered when _my _thighs looked like that.

I winced at her choice of words, but appreciated her certainty. "Of course not. He's confused, not evil. He isn't capable of such a thing."

Ruby smirked at me, eyeing me from underneath her mile-long eyelashes. "Careful, your libido is showing!"

I groaned and turned the color of her name. "Ruby…"

"What? I think it's sweet!"

"His wife is _missing_, Ruby!"

That sobered the younger woman…for a minute. "I know, it's awful, but I can't help it! You and David are so romantic!"

She always was our staunchest supporter. "What we have is far from romantic."

"Ah, so he's a few years younger than you, you still got it!"

This was a downright disrespectful conversation considering the circumstances, but she had a way of drawing me in regardless. "_Got_ it?"

"Yeah, girl! You're hot! You could let me dye your hair and I bet you wouldn't look a day over thirty-five!"

I sighed and glanced over at my vanity mirror, noting how my dark hair was nearly completely grey with all the stress I'd been under since arriving in Storybrooke. It wasn't all that surprising; dark hair and all, and it was still full and healthy, but it's shocking to see it on your own head after a lifetime of "hair as black as night."

"Not that…" Ruby continued contritely. "That there's anything _wrong_ with your hair. It's distinctive!"

I smiled wryly and shook my head. "Thanks, Ruby. Believe it or not, I actually feel a little better."

Ruby straightened up, grinning. "Glad I can help. Guess I better go get some sleep. Job Hunt City tomorrow! Henry promised he'd give me a hand after school."

"Good night, Ruby," I chuckled, scooting under my covers.

Ruby hopped off the bed, swishing her red-streaked hair before turning back to me briefly. "Don't worry, Mary Margaret, everything will work out."

I smiled, hoping she was right. "Thanks."

* * *

Ruby's new job ended up being an assistant to Emma for all of a day. But under Emma's encouragement she really proved herself and discovered abilities no one (but me) knew that she had.

"So you and Ruby used to be best friends?" Henry asked me as I was serving him his dinner.

"Mmhmm. For a time we were all the other had. We were like sisters."

He didn't say anything while he shoveled macaroni and cheese into his mouth. "Like…Snow White and Rose Red."

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Henry, and eat your broccoli," I reminded him. "Now what?"

"Snow White and Rose Red," he said once he'd swallowed his food. "It's a different story than _your _Snow White story, but in it they were sisters."

"Really?" the title of the story sounded familiar, but I didn't think I'd ever read it.

Henry dutifully picked up a piece of broccoli on his fork. "They met a Prince cursed to be a…"

He was interrupted by the front door opening and closing.

"A bear," I finished for him. "No, that happened, his name was Kenai…"

"Mom?" Emma said.

"Hey, sweetie," I called over my shoulder. "Fix your plate."

Henry was looking over my shoulder at his mother, his brows knitted together. "Are you okay, Mom?"

Frowning, I turned around to find Emma still standing by the door. "Emma-honey?"

"Henry, take your dinner upstairs," Emma said.

"But I'm not allowed…"

"Go," her voice was soft, but it brooked no argument. "I got you a candy bar. You can have it after you finish your dinner."

Henry silently gathered up his plate at took it and the proffered candy bar upstairs, glancing back over his shoulder after every other step.

Suddenly not feeling very hungry, I pushed my own plate away and stood up, grabbing the ends of my sweater and pulling them tighter around my body. "Baby…are you…"

"Don't," she interrupted, half-turning away. "Just…can you not call me that for a minute?"

"Um…okay. Please, tell me what's wrong."

"Ruby found something today," she said, her face pale.

"I heard. I heard she did a really good job."

Emma nodded. "Yeah, she did great. She um…she found a box. It uh…there was a human heart inside."

My hands flew to my mouth, and I suddenly felt sick. This entire time, I never once believed that Kathryn was actually dead. But then, Regina killed Graham to preserve her curse, why would Princess Abigail be any different?

"No…" I whimpered.

"I sent it off to be tested…to see if it's hers…but there's no one else."

I lowered my hands and shook my head. "Emma, listen, David couldn't have…"

"It was your jewelry box!" she blurted suddenly. "The one Granma gave you for your birthday a few years ago!"

I blinked in confusion. I knew which jewelry box she spoke of, but surely it was in my wardrobe where I left it? "I don't understand…"

"Me neither," she whispered, and her eyes were haunted. "I thought…you know, it was a lookalike or something, so I dusted it for fingerprints. Mama…_your _fingerprints were on the inside of the box."

I almost laughed. "You have to be kidding me. Emma! You know good and well I didn't do this!"

"I know…but I don't have a choice…"

My heart sank, and to top it all off my head was beginning to pound again. "You're arresting me."

She shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. "I don't know _what _to do!"

"Well, it's obvious someone stole my jewelry box!" My temper flared. This was so typical of Regina.

"I know that! I just don't know how we can prove it! I can't even bury the evidence since Ruby's already leaked it!"

My heart lurched that Emma would even be willing to get rid of the evidence, knowing how dedicated she was to the law.

Emma ran her hands through her hair, pacing the living room. "This is a complete conflict of interest. If I was back in Augusta I wouldn't be allowed within a hundred feet of this case now."

"But…here?"

She turned to face me again. "I'm the _only_ one here. If I do this…if I take you in…maybe Regina won't make me bring anyone else in."

"You think if you arrest me, no one will _notice_?"

"All I need is enough time to find irrefutable proof that you're innocent. If I can get it before you need to be arraigned, I can still help you."

I smiled and reached out to stroke her hair. "And you will."

"Mom?"

I sighed and took a step back. "I know, I know," I held out my wrists. "I have the right to remain silent."

* * *

Emma refused to make me spend an unnecessary night in a jail cell, and didn't take me in until morning. Not that I managed to sleep that night.

I blinked hard at the flash of the camera as Emma took my mug shot. "Did you get my good side?" I dead-panned.

"This isn't funny," she sighed tiredly. "You think I enjoy booking my own mother?"

"There were times growing up you probably would have gotten a huge kick out of this."

That got a ghost of a smile from her before the door to the station slammed open with enough force to knock it off its hinges.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?!" August bellowed, storming into the room, eyes locked murderously on Emma.

"Auggie!" I admonished, appalled he'd use such language with his sister.

He looked from my face, to my black stained fingers, and back to Emma who was still holding my mug shot. "Are you fucking insane? You're _actually _arresting her?!"

"I don't have a choice!" Emma exclaimed, holding out her arms. "The heart was in _her _box, it had _her _fingerprints!"

"So what?! You don't actually think she'd kill someone and rip her heart out! That would be Regina's area of expertise."

Emma shook her head, choosing to ignore the Regina comment for the moment, it seemed. "Of _course _I know she didn't kill anyone!" she yelled angrily. "I'm not stupid! This is obviously a setup!"

"Then why the hell is she here?!"

"August," I interrupted, moving to stand between the two. "Emma knows what she's doing. If she doesn't arrest me, if she doesn't do _something_, then Regina can bring in someone who _will_."

"I'm just trying to buy enough time to prove she's been framed! I'm going to fix this!"

August skirted around me, and I frowned at how pronounced his limp was. He stopped right in front of Emma, towering over her though she only met him glare for glare. He pointed a finger at her face. "You'd _better._ If you don't, I swear to God, I will never forgive you."

Emma said nothing as he spun around to face me, his tone and face softening immensely. "Do you need anything, Mom?"

I shook my head, closing my eyes as his arms came around me. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "I'm going to go get Henry. Word is spreading fast, and last thing that kid needs is to be the center of questioning as to why his Nana is in jail."

He spared a quick glance in Emma's direction to receive her slight nod of assent before limping out.

"He's just upset," I told Emma once he was gone. "Don't take it to heart."

Looking like she'd rather jump off a cliff, Emma led me to the same cell she occupied briefly months ago when we first arrive in town. "I _am _going to fix this," she promised me, eyes wide and wet. "You trust me, don't you?"

I stepped into my little cell and closed the door myself. "I trust you, Emma. I trust you more than anyone."

"You think maybe I should call Grampa?"

I groaned. "No, let's keep them out of this as long as possible. No sense stressing them out if we can avoid it."

Emma placed her hand on top of mine where it rested on the bars. "It's gonna be okay."

I managed a smile for her. "I know."


	32. Daughters

**The response to my last chapter was fantastic! Thanks guys! **

**The conversation between Snow and Regina in this chapter was actually one of the first things I wrote for this story. Most of you probably know that one of my favorite things about OUAT is the tragic relationship between these two. So enjoy! **

* * *

My first night in jail was spent in pain as my head throbbed and my thoughts ran so rampant I couldn't hold any of them long enough to form one that was coherent. I managed to keep it from Emma, though, who slept restlessly on the couch outside my cell despite my insistences that she go home.

I was better by morning, but things didn't get any easier. Henry, Paige, and Emma found a knife in the air vent in my room, covered in Kathryn's blood and my fingerprints. The evidence continued to pile up, and I didn't help matters by losing my temper at King George aka DA Spencer and saying something I didn't mean.

But Emma never blinked, never wavered in her determination to clear me. I was afraid that with all the damning evidence, her belief in me might falter, but it didn't.

Unfortunately, someone's belief in me _did_ falter.

Emma had gone to make dinner for August and Henry at my insistence.

"But Mom, Auggie is a better cook than me anyway," she said, as close to whining as she'd sounded since she was sixteen.

"Baby, it's hard enough for Henry that he doesn't have me around while all of this madness is happening, he needs to have you at home as much as possible. And you, he, and Auggie having a home-cooked meal together is what all of you need."

Emma couldn't argue the point, so she left me with promises that she'd bring me leftovers. I knew it killed her having to leave me in that cell.

Not long after she left, I heard the door open and shut, and I sat up on my cot in time to see David walk it, his posture hunched, his expression wrecked.

"Hi," I greeted him, a little embarrassed to be seen in such conditions, especially considering that I hadn't washed my hair in a few days.

David looked on the verge of tears as he told me that he'd blacked out in the woods, and when he remembered what happened, he remembered that I'd been there, and he was begging me not to kill "her."

The thing was, I knew exactly what memory he was actually recalling, and my joy that he was actually _remembering _something of our past was completely erased by the distrust written all over his face.

But then, he didn't even know that he knew me. So why wouldn't he wonder, what with all of the proof? Not that it could ease the pain or the feeling of betrayal.

I demanded that he leave, not wanting to even look at him, and chanting to myself that he was cursed, he's cursed, he's cursed…

* * *

For a moment Emma and August thought they found proof that Regina was behind it, but unfortunately Emma put her trust in the wrong person and it was lost. The entire time I kept feeling like I knew _why _Sidney wasn't trustworthy, but I just couldn't remember.

August enlisted the help of Mr. Gold to act as my attorney, (to which I said, "Seriously?) much to Emma chagrin. I wasn't much happier about the situation, but it certainly wasn't my first time going to him for help, and he seemed oddly genuine and practical in his efforts.

"You're an apple-faced grandmother and schoolteacher," he said in his soft Scottish accent that was so at odds with cackling, childish, almost Cockney-sounding voice I'd grown accustomed to back home. "We can use that in court. No jury will convict you."

"Court?" I whispered, aware of Emma in her office, even if the door was shut. "Gold you know as well as I do that I can't leave Storybrooke! Can _you _even leave?"

He smiled at me. Though his expression said he didn't know what I was talking about, his eyes told a different story. "Well there's no courthouse in Storybrooke, Ms. Swan. Now, if Sheriff Swan is able to clear you before arraignment, there will be no need to leave, but I'm afraid she doesn't have much time. We should prepare our case."

I growled in exasperation. I _knew _that he had his memories. Why was he so determined to pretend otherwise? "Can't _you _make her believe?"

His gold tooth glinted in the sunlight coming in through the window when he chuckled. "Belief cannot be made, Dearie. It comes from within."

* * *

But I was running out of time, and the moment was drawing nearer that I would be taken from Storybrooke to go to court and Emma would no longer be able to help me. Possibly no one would. Not even Gold or my apple face…whatever that meant.

Two nights before arraignment, I banished Emma and August both to get a good night's rest in real beds, begging them for some privacy to think.

When she walked in, I wasn't in the least bit surprised.

I glared up at her smug expression. "What are you doing here?" I asked blandly.

"I just wanted to see you while I can."

I stood up and crossed my arms. "You mean so you can gloat, stepmother?"

Regina's eyes flashed at the name, allowing me a pinch of satisfaction.

I ran a hand through my hair. I was tired and upset and really not in the mood for her. I was done skirting around the subject. "You cast your curse, Regina. You got your revenge. Why this? Why now?"

She grabbed the bars. "Because you came back. You should have just stayed away."

I gave her a condescending smile. "Don't you see, Regina? It's over. Emma is _going _to break the curse, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it."

She threw back her head and laughed. "I already have, dear! In thirty-five hours you are going on a one way trip out of Storybrooke, and your precious little Savior will follow you. You'll go down for murder, be locked up for the rest of your miserable life, and what will become of your daughter then? She'll be lost. I doubt she'll be doing much "saving" then."

I shook my head. "No. It's not too late. She'll find a way to prove my innocence. And _even _if she doesn't, she _will_ break the curse. It's her destiny. Good always wins."

"Haven't you learned enough of this world to know that isn't true here?"

I walked up to the bars, placing my hands just below hers, stopping just inches from her face. "You don't scare me, Regina. You're nothing but a bitter old witch."

"You're calling _me_ old?" she scoffed. "Have you looked in a mirror lately, dear? That gray hair truly brings out your age."

"Is this really the only way you can be happy? By ruining my life? When I met Paige I hoped she might have given you something else to live for…or is that poor little girl just another game piece to you?"

Before I could so much as flinch, Regina's hand shot through the bars and her fingers closed around my neck. "Don't you _dare_ talk about my daughter!"

"She isn't really your daughter," I wheezed. "I don't know who she really belongs to, but when the curse breaks, I can guarantee they're going to come for her."

Her hand tightened, and I gasped for breath and clawed at her fingers with my own. I stared at her arm between the bars and contemplated breaking it. I knew I still could.

"He won't," she hissed. "Because the curse will never break."

"Why did you take her?"

"That is none of your business!"

I began to see dark spots. "_Why,_ Regina? Why did you need a child? Because it wasn't enough…" I gasped. "Was it? This…happy ending of yours…it wasn't enough."

She gave me a little shake, but her fingers loosened somewhat. "Shut up."

"You wanted what you wouldn't allow yourself to have before."

"_What _are you talking about?"

"A daughter," I whispered. "You _had _a daughter, Regina. You just wanted that back."

When she shook me again, it was violent, slamming me against the bars. "You were _never_ my daughter!" she spat. "You betrayed me! Because of you I lost Daniel! Because," she emphasized each word with another shake. "You couldn't. Keep. Your mouth. Shut!"

"I never meant to hurt you!" I cried. "I thought at the time that losing your mother was the worst thing that could ever happen! She tricked me! I'm not saying…" I gasped. "I'm not saying I'm not responsible, but I wasn't trying to hurt you!"

"Liar!" she yelled, and let me go with a shove. I fell to the floor, taking in gulps of air. "You've always seen yourself as _so innocent_. You took everything from me! I won't stop until I take everything from _you!_ You didn't pay for murder before, but now you are!"

"You weren't like this at first," I said quietly, rubbing my throat. I knew I should probably just shut up, but there was something I'd always wanted to know. "Your anger built slowly. In the beginning, when I was a child, even after Daniel died, you were kind to me. Why? Why didn't you just kill me when I was a child? Why pretend?"

"It was an act," she said dismissively. "Killing you when you were a child would have brought too much attention."

"You allowed your hate to fester, you let magic corrupt your soul. Do you even have _any _idea how much I loved you? That's why you wanted Paige, isn't it? You wanted that kind of love again."

I may as well have slapped her, the way she recoiled, but despite her well-developed mask, I could see I'd hit on a thread of truth. When she blinked her eyes, however, it was gone, leaving nothing but anger behind.

"I know I hurt you," I said at last, beginning to cry despite myself. "I know nothing can ever take away what happened, no matter how much devastation you cause. But Regina…I'm sorry. I truly am"

Regina only smirked, all pomp and power again. "Apology not accepted."

With a flourish only Regina can manage, she was gone. And I sat down heavily on the cot, physically and emotionally exhausted.

The next morning, I found the skeleton key.

* * *

The key burned a hole in my pocked all day long. I knew it was a set-up, that much was quite obvious, but police were arriving the following morning to take me to court, _outside of Storybrooke._ They would walk in like zombies, like the delivery men, but once we were outside the town it would be real, and once I was out I just knew I wasn't ever coming back. And without me to anchor Emma there, she would have no reason to stay, and everything would be lost.

"Mom, we have to _do _something," August whispered while Emma was in her office. "Henry and I have been trying everything to make Emma believe. I even stole the poor boy's book, took Emma to that well that says it can return what is lost, and then made her stumble across the book in the street."

I chuckled at his plotting. "That's very theatrical, sweetie."

He groaned and rolled his eyes. "This isn't funny! Mom, if they take you out of Storybrooke…"

"I _know_," I hissed. "Believe me, I know."

"We need to just tell her. If the both of us tell her the truth, she'll have to believe it."

I winced as a sudden jab of pain went through my skull. "I just don't think that will work, Auggie…"

"But…"

We both jumped at the sound of a crash coming from Emma's office. "And there goes another vase," August muttered.

"What were we talking about again?" I asked, feeling sort of befuddled.

August gave me a weird look, but Emma stormed out before he could question me. "Look at this!" she fumed, holding up a small black object.

"What are we looking at?" August asked.

"These flowers Sidney gave me, they were bugged! _That's_ how Regina knew about the shovel!"

"I knew you shouldn't have trusted him," I said.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

I blinked. "I…don't know."

"Mom?" August said. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head, trying to clear it. "I'm fine…just…tired."

Emma came up to the bars, fisting her hands around them. "Mom, I am _not_ letting Regina get away with this. I swear, I'm _going_ to get you out of this!"

"Emma…" I began. "Maybe," I glanced up at August. "Maybe we should talk about other options…"

"You've always taken care of me," she said quietly, eyes watering. "You've never let me down, no matter how much shit I put you through. And Mama, I will _not _let you down."

I reached past the bars to pull her head close enough for me to kiss. "I know, baby girl."

* * *

Though I trusted my daughter with my life, her assurances did nothing but convince me that I couldn't go to arraignment in the morning. So I made the snap, (okay, rash,) decision to use the key and break out, and find the necessary proof that Regina framed me myself. And if not, I'd just stay in the woods until Emma broke the curse. It infuriated me that Regina was forcing me into hiding _again_, but anything was better than going down for a murder I didn't commit.

Maybe Kathryn wasn't even dead. It may have been a land without magic, but the town was hidden by it, and the people remained ageless for three decades. That couldn't happen without magic. So maybe Regina had enough of it to steal a heart.

I waited until late in the night when Emma had, again at my insistence, gone home. I knew the sleepy town would be all but a dead after 2am when The Rabbit Hole closed.

I turned the key in the lock, holding my breath, almost afraid it wouldn't work even though I'd already tested it. I crept out of the cell and out of the station, nearly trembling with nerves. It'd been a very long time since my last incognito escape, and I was sadly out of practice.

My first instinct had been to inform August of my escape plan, but he would be the first person Emma would question, and as good of a liar as he naturally was, the boy had _never _been able to keep the truth from his lie-detector sister. So I kept him out of it.

There was no one else in the town to turn to, so I just ran into the forest, knowing it to be vast enough that I could hide for some time. I could call on some of the long-buried survival skills I knew I still had from their reserves. I didn't relish living in a tree stump again, but I could do it. I knew Emma was going to panic when she found the empty cell, so I sent a silent apology to her and kept running.

I stopped only when I felt that I had gone far enough, my muscles and knees aching. I started looking around for a place to camp when I paused, feeling like I was being watched.

"Who's there?" I barked, heart beating out of my chest. I barely got a look at a tall, unfamiliar man before something hit my head and everything went black.


End file.
